To Remember
by silkendreammaid
Summary: It's been five years since Edward Elric went through the Gate. Now comes a young man with a remarkable likeness. RoyEd. Chapter 9: “Is this some kind of joke?”
1. Return

**To Remember**

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor ever will, Fullmetal Alchemist or the characters within.

* * *

**1. Return**

General Roy Mustang picked up another folder and sighed. It was nearly six in the evening, he had been here since seven this morning and the paperwork just kept on coming. When, he wondered would they run out of paper. It would make his life so much easier. They could reuse the existing paper until it wore out and then he could realise his vision of a paperwork-less military. He shook his head. He really needed another coffee, these long days were starting to get to him.

As if summoned by his thought, Major Havoc walked through his door with fresh coffee and another pile of files.

"This should do it for today, Chief." Havoc said with his usual calm disregard of Mustang's glowering face. He had been with Mustang for so many years now that there was little the man could do to scare him.

"I'm sure I'm thanking you somewhere for this." Mustang retorted and picked up his coffee as he opened the file.

Coffee left his mouth in a fine spray and coated his desk in small droplets as he spluttered wildly.

The list of this year's State Alchemist candidates was in his hand and his eye was frozen on one name.

Edward von Hohenheim.

It took Roy Mustang a long time before he could stop his hands from shaking.

* * *

Edward von Hohenheim looked around the large room where the written examination was to take place. He had found a seat amongst the others scattered along the tiered seating. A raised dais was at the lowest level where several blue uniforms were sorting out the test papers. He looked across at the banners hanging from the wall and then scanned the room idly. Large windows gave the room an even more spacious feel. So unlike the last place he thought. That had felt more like a dark and dank cavern compared to this. This was much better, he thought. He leant back in the seat and waited.

A door opened near the dais and a line of soldiers appeared. Edward watched with idle curiousity. Four of them sat at the long table and two others stood at either end. They looked like normal everyday soldiers, he thought. Two of them had brown hair, one had black hair and an eye-patch and the grey haired one seemed to have more decorations than the others combined. At their appearance, several corporals began moving up the levels and handing out the papers. Edward watched as the paper slid across the desk face down in front of him.

The grey haired soldier stood up.

"This is the first stage to determine which of you will be accepted into service with the State Alchemists. You may begin."

Edward turned over the paper, picked up his pen and started at question one.

* * *

It had taken General Roy Mustang less than five seconds to spot the golden blond head as he had entered the room and walked onto the dais. He had scanned the tiers and seen the golden hair that could only belong to Edward Elric. Why he was now calling himself von Hohenheim was a mystery and one Mustang intended to get answered as soon as he could. Edward was dressed in a sober brown coat and he thought he could see a cream shirt beneath it. His hair was pulled back in a high ponytail. He had gloves on and Mustang wondered if there was still automail under the right one.

Mustang frowned slightly. When Edward's face had turned in his direction he had expected a smirk or something, but there had been nothing. And when the papers were handed out, he simply started with everyone else. The lack of any recognition of either his surroundings or himself caused Mustang to doubt for a moment if that was Edward sitting there. But there was no-one else here that it could be.

The clock ticked away as the exam progressed. Mustang kept an eye on the golden head. Edward, it had to be Edward, kept writing steadily, never looking up. The pen kept moving smoothly in his left hand for page after page. For three hours that golden head never lifted.

When time was called he watched as Edward handed his paper to the collecting officer. He stretched and then moved easily with a slight limp to the stairs and climbed with the others to leave the room without looking behind him.

It's been five years, Mustang thought with a twist in his gut. Name change or not, that's got to be Edward Elric.

* * *

Edward von Hohenheim looked around the small hotel room. His opened case sat on the end of his single bed and his coat was tossed over the chair by the small desk. A bedside table with matching dresser and small wardrobe were the only other pieces of furniture.

He picked up a book from his case and placed it on the bedside table before going to the window. The window was dusty as if it hadn't been cleaned for some time and Edward lightly touched the glass with his fingertips. There was a brief rattle as the glass shook and the dirt slipped from the window. Edward smiled slightly as he looked out the now cleaned window.

The first part was done he thought. Two more to go. The written paper had been easier than he had expected. He had been told it was very hard and he hadn't expected to answer more than three quarter of the questions. But he had managed to answer them all and he couldn't think of any mistakes he might have made.

He leant his head against the window and stared unseeing through his reflection. The answers were here, he knew that. He just had to find them.

* * *

Roy Mustang looked at the lists. Edward von Hohenheim had passed the written exam. He had done more than just pass, he had answered every question and gotten them all correct. Mustang couldn't remember the last time that had happened or even if it ever had. Mustang looked at the other paper on his desk. Edward's test paper. He looked at the handwriting. It was slightly familiar but nowhere near the scrawling penmanship he remembered seeing on Edward's reports. This was definitely more legible.

Was this von Hohenheim Edward Elric returned after so long? It had looked like him from the distance. His knowledge of alchemy was impressive, very impressive, and he had limped and written left-handedly. Did he have automail, or some form of prosthetics for two of his limbs? Hohenheim had been his father's name, who else would even use it? And why was he using it? That was the thought that kept running through his mind. Hohenheim was not a common name.

Mustang leant back in his chair. The interviews were to be held the day after tomorrow and this Edward von Hohenheim would be there. His score alone guaranteed that. Perhaps when he saw him closer up, he would be able to know if this was Elric or not.

And if it was, why hadn't Al told him or did Al have no idea of this either? Al wasn't due back in Central for another two weeks, Mustang decided it could wait until then. Hopefully he would know a lot more about this Edward von Hohenheim by then.

His hand tightened. It had to be Edward, it just had to be.

* * *

The candidates sat around the small foyer in front of the white doors. The numbers had shrunk, obviously quite a few had not passed the written test. Edward von Hohenheim watched as one after the other, they were called to enter the room beyond the double doors. He studied the white carved panels and found the designs interesting as his eyes followed the graceful lines of the figures. He blinked suddenly as he saw the angle between one curved line and another. His eyes flickered and he gave a small smile. There was an array hidden very subtly amongst the bas-relief figures.

When his name was called, he rose from his seat and approached the doors, gripping the handles and letting the array tingle through him before pulling them open and entering the dark room beyond.

His first step on the array caused it to flare beneath him and the light blazed down from the ceiling at the same time. Edward closed his eyes and walked through the blinding light to the Chair and sat down. The array beneath him dimmed as he sat and he opened his eyes. The same soldiers who had been upon the dais for the written exam were seated behind the table before him.

"Why do you wish to become a State Alchemist?" The grey haired man asked.

"Because I have the need to be one. Alchemy is the centre of my life and it is all I know."

"Why do you need to be a State Alchemist?"

"Because alchemy teaches that one must have a purpose for every thing you do. It is my purpose and I must use it as I can."

Mustang watched the golden-eyed young man. He had never seen the array on the floor react like that before. It was there to anchor the Chair. It was not supposed to be activated by people walking on it. This was Edward Elric, he was sure of it. But there was no recognition in his eyes. The voice was accented and concise. There was no nervousness as he continued to answer the questions. There was a sense of honesty about him as he spoke. And he appeared calm. Mustang had never thought to associate that word with Edward at all.

When he finished, he stood up and bowed, the array beneath him glowing faintly. When the double doors closed behind him, both the array and the central light above went dark.

"Well, that was interesting." The grey haired man turned in his seat and looked at Mustang.

"Very." Mustang replied, keeping his voice level.

"Mark him down as passed and let us see what he produces at the practical."

* * *

General Roy Mustang had suffered from insomnia on several occasions in his life. Ishbal had left him unable to sleep for years, the loss of Maes still disrupted his sleep. The double strike of losing his eye and killing Bradley in what turned out to be a futile endeavour had cost him more than just sleep. But the loss of Edward Elric had left him unable to find any peace anywhere. It had gnawed at him, even when he did manage to sleep.

He didn't know when it had happened, but somewhere along the line he had fallen in love with the irritating, annoying, short-tempered, short statured pain in the ass. The boy had made his life a living hell at times, he had insulted him, attacked him, he had thought the worst of him and he had given him respect and understanding when he had least expected it. When he had heard that Edward was missing, something in him had died and he had been blinded by the sudden pang.

It had taken him a year to realise just why Edward's disappearance had caused him such pain and by then he had retreated into a cold shell at a cold outpost. A small rebellion and a stupid suicidal attack had led him back here, with honours and a promotion for his daring behaviour. Only Hawkeye had labelled his actions as reckless and seen them for what they were. A death wish that had gone unfulfilled.

As he strode to his office on the day of the practicals, Mustang was feeling bleary-eyed from lack of sleep. He was determined to talk to Edward von Hohenheim as soon as the exams were over. He wanted to know, he had to know just exactly who this young man was.

* * *

Edward von Hohenheim stood on the wide steps leading into Headquarters and yawned as he idly watched the people passing. Some hurried past and others moved with casual intent. People were the same all over he thought. All wrapped up in their little worlds. He smiled as he looked up at the large banner that hung above him. The contrast of the green against the blue sky teased his eyes and he watched with appreciation as the banner shifted in the wind, pulling against its restraining ropes.

Dad was right, I think I will like it here, he thought and his smile faded slightly as his golden eyes dimmed for a moment and he sighed before he began to walk up the stairs. Signs were posted and he followed the arrows as they led him and the others through long hallways to a large open parade ground surrounded by the even larger sprawling complex that was Central Headquarters.

The mountainous piles of raw materials caught his eye and he studied them carefully. Spoiled for choice, he thought. He tilted his head as he looked at it again and began to draw arrays in his mind.

General Roy Mustang stood with the others, slightly behind General Paull, the head of the Amestrian Military. The Amestrian parliament had claimed control of the military when Fuhrer Bradley had disappeared and had placed General Paull as their puppet. However, soon after he had been appointed, General Paull had discreetly and carefully canvassed several of the other Generals and then had thrown away his strings and taken proper control of the Military, much to the chagrin of the parliament.

It had taken a rebellion and a lot of talking before he had persuaded Roy Mustang to return to Central and resume his old command position. Semi-control of the State Alchemists had been a nice sweetener and Mustang had found himself unable to resist, especially when a recovered Alphonse Elric had appeared in his office two years ago and demanded to join.

He watched the young man contemplating the provided materials and was convinced again that it was Edward Elric standing there. Wearing that same brown coat with the cream shirt and brown pants he had worn to both the written and interview, he looked remarkably at ease in these surroundings. His hair was in that long fluid golden tail and it moved as his head tilted to one side.

General Paull waited until everyone was gathered and spoke clearly.

"This is the final test. Using the materials we have provided you must demonstrate to our satisfaction your skills in the practical applications of alchemy." He finished and stepped back and watched with interest as did the other observers.

There was the usual pause as the applicants looked at each other, each wondering what the other would do and nerves got the better of some of them. Mustang saw the self-doubters take that step back that usually meant they had failed and were going to be unable to perform at all.

Edward von Hohenheim had no such doubts and there was no hesitation as he was the first to stride forward. Even with his limp, he walked easily and gracefully towards the mountains of rock and dirt. With no apparent preparation he knelt down and his hands met in a quiet clap. Gloved hands were placed on the ground and the mountain moved. It sank completely into the ground and disappeared. The golden eyed man smiled as there was a rumble and a small mound of solid iron ore rose from the centre of the now empty space and then several other piles began to appear, circling out from the first. Ever faster and ever expanding the mounds appeared. All the elements collected into their purest form and separated.

Mustang watched as Edward stood up and brushed a hand against the iron ore. Metal gleamed as steel cables snaked from the central mound and linked into the others. Edward walked slowly away as the cables stretched taut behind him, linking the pillars together. He stood just outside the joined elements. With that same quiet clap he touched the cable and the array he had constructed flared into brilliant blue life. Fire flared along the steel lines and sparked in each element. The array sank down into the ground and took the cables and mounds with it. A shuddering and the ground split open and the original mountain reappeared.

Edward turned and began to walk back to the group, a small smile on his lips. The other applicants moved out of his way as he limped back to his original place and Mustang saw the puzzled frown that creased his forehead.

Mustang was in awe. He had never seen such a large scale transmutation before. It was no wonder the others were wary of him. He couldn't even begin to design an array that would accomplish what Edward von Hohenheim had just achieved. And he had used no circles. He had only known Edward Elric to be able to do that. Even without circles it would have required detailed knowledge and time to plan and mentally calculate what was needed.

Didn't he realise just how extraordinary what he had done was, Mustang thought as he saw the frown deepen and the golden eyes become confused as the other applicants moved further away from him. This was not how he remembered Edward Elric behaving. Edward would have known exactly what he had done. But then again, he wondered if the Edward he remembered would have thought of such a transmutation.

He watched the other applicants but knew they could not compete. The exam had finished the moment those gloved hands had literally moved mountains.

* * *

It was silent in General Paull's office. Dark brown eyes met a single one of black.

"We have no choice, Roy. He is the best candidate we have ever seen. No-one has ever done what he did."

"I know, Justin." Roy said with reluctant agreement. "It's just ... if he is Edward Elric returned, why would he feel the need to use a different name? It worries me." And he doesn't act like Edward and he doesn't recognise me, he thought.

Over the last few years, the two men had managed to build a solid working relationship based on their original respect for each other. A drunken night had sealed their friendship as they had spilled secrets neither of them had ever planned to tell. It was a measure of the depth of their friendship that Justin Paull did not ask Roy how he was coping with that same resemblance on a personal level. He could see that for himself in the uncharacteristic fiddling of the gloved hands.

"I'll have him placed under your command. If there is anything suspicious then you will know better than anyone else what to look for." The General's voice had a hint of hesitancy in it as he watched Roy tense slightly and then relax.

"Agreed." Roy met his eyes with a wry twist to his lips. "There really is no other place for him."

A contemplative silence fell between them.

"Will you be okay, Roy?" The question was quietly asked and the reply was just as quiet.

"I don't know."

* * *

Edward von Hohenheim received a message at his hotel to report to General Mustang's office at two that afternoon. Correctly assuming it to be the notification of his results he made sure he was there early to ask for directions to the General's office. A helpful desk sergeant gave him explicit directions and he set off through the maze of hallways and stairs.

It took him less time than he had thought it would and he appeared at the office door fifteen minutes early. A blond Major with an unlit cigarette in his mouth looked up as the young man appeared before his desk. His blue eyes went wide and the cigarette dropped from his mouth. Before he could say anything the young man spoke.

"I was told to meet a General Mustang here at two. My name is Edward von Hohenheim." He spoke clearly in his accented voice and his eyes widened fractionally at the sudden paling of the Major's face.

"I'll just let him know." Havoc said in a voice he tried to keep even and nearly ran into the inner office, closing the door behind him. Edward could hear the muted murmur of voices and waited patiently, looking curiously around the outer office. Several desks, obviously in use, were pushed together to make a larger work space in the middle of the room and the door to the inner office was framed by the two desks on either side of it.

The door opened and the Major returned. "The General will see you now." He said in a calmer manner than he had used before.

"Thank you." Edward bowed his head and smiled as he walked past him into the inner office.

* * *

Author's Note: It's a small thing I started to get me through blocks and over hurdles in other places.

silken :)


	2. You Look Like Him

**To Remember**

Disclaimer: I do not own and never will, Fullmetal Alchemist or the characters within.

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**Chapter 2: "You look like him."**

General Roy Mustang took a deep breath and looked up as he heard the limping steps of Edward von Hohenheim enter his office. The young man was composed and seemed completely at ease as he walked in, looking around with real curiousity before his gaze settled on the one-eyed black haired General behind the desk. He closed the door behind him and moved to stand in front of the large desk. His eyes were steady and Roy could see absolutely no recognition in them. For four years he had seen those eyes across his desk. They had never once looked at him with such an impersonal regard before.

"Edward von Hohenheim?" He queried.

"Yes, Sir." The voice was mellow and smooth with the accent he remembered from the interview.

"Where are you from, if I may ask, Mr von Hohenheim?"

"Germany, Sir." There was no trace of any falsehood in either his eyes or voice that Roy could see.

"I don't think I've ever heard of a place of that name." Mustang frowned.

"It's a long way from here, Sir." There was a hint of regret to his words that struck Mustang as odd.

"Do you intend to return there?"

"No Sir." The regret was much more noticeable.

"You are here because of your performance in the alchemy exam." He saw the golden head nod. There was no expectation of success or failure that Mustang could see. The young man simply waited for Mustang to tell him how he had done.

"How long have you studied alchemy for, von Hohenheim?"

"For as long as I can remember, Sir."

"You are most proficient and knowledgeable and have demonstrated your skills to all of us, therefore we are pleased to accept you into the ranks of State Alchemists." Mustang said formally.

The smile that appeared on Edward's face surprised him. The golden eyes gleamed and the young man looked pleased at hearing of his success. He had never seen Edward Elric smile so easily.

"Thank you Sir."

Mustang opened a drawer and removed a silver watch and slid it across the table.

"That is yours." He watched as Edward picked it up with his left hand and looked at it curiously before flicking it open. The golden eyes looked up at him questioningly.

"What purpose does it serve, Sir?"

"It is the symbol for all State Alchemists. You keep it with you at all times. It is used to identify you and everyone will recognise it. You will need it for claiming expenses and for admittance into the State libraries." It felt strange having to list the uses of the watch. But there had been genuine ignorance in Edward's eyes and voice.

"Tomorrow, there will be an induction process where you will be issued with a uniform and allocated a dormitory. You will be expected to be at the front desk at eight tomorrow morning where you will be met."

The blond head nodded and seemed completely at ease with all these arrangements.

"Are there any questions, Major?"

"Major, Sir?" The golden eyes blinked and there was confusion in his voice.

"As a State Alchemist, you are automatically assigned the rank of Major. In a few days, you will also be given a State title that you will be more commonly known as." Edward nodded, his face clearing as he listened. "Do you have any more questions?"

There was a small pause before Edward shook his head. "No Sir."

"Good. I have one for you." And Mustang kept his eye focused on Edward.

"What does the name Elric mean to you?"

"Elric, Sir?" Edward pondered for a moment then shook his head. "No, I'm sorry, it doesn't mean anything to me. I don't think I've ever heard it before."

Roy felt his stomach churn and his hands clenched as his head spun slightly. The casual certainty in that light accented voice had gone straight through him. It hurt to see those golden eyes look at him with nothing but curiousity. No recognition, not even the animosity Edward had always delighted in treating him to whenever he could. Roy swallowed the bitter disappointment that rose to the back of his throat.

"You look very much like someone we all knew well. His name was Edward Elric." He said slowly.

Von Hohenheim tilted his head and frowned slightly. "I look like someone else?" He was curious and it showed in his eyes and voice.

"Yes."

Von Hohenheim smiled. "It seems highly improbable, Sir."

"And yet, you look like him, you are left handed, you limp and you know alchemy." Roy listed off the similarities, keeping his voice even.

The golden eyes darkened slightly and his back stiffened. Roy watched as the left hand tightened. His eye narrowed.

"Why do you limp?" He asked abruptly and the blond frowned as he paled. The golden eyes looked to the side briefly but then stared back.

"I lost my leg in an accident." The accented voice held an old pain and Roy straightened up in his chair.

"And your right arm as well." Roy said in a hushed voice. Edward von Hohenheim took a step back and his left hand came up to grip his right elbow. His mouth opened to speak but nothing came out.

"What accident, von Hohenheim? How did you lose your limbs?" Roy's eye stayed focused on those golden eyes. There was pain in those eyes and an unwillingness to comply but Roy didn't blink and kept his gaze firmly fixed on Edward.

"There was a fire." There was a great reluctance in his voice and eyes.

"When did this happen?" Roy questioned, ignoring the glaring look in those golden eyes. Golden eyes glaring at him was something he was very used to.

"Ten years ago."

Roy froze, aware of the painful disappointment that surged again and had him swallowing hard. He had half expected to hear five years, not anything further back than that. Edward von Hohenheim was not looking very happy and it was obvious that the memory was a particularly painful one. But Roy had been so certain that this was Edward Elric. It took him a long moment before he could push the disappointment aside.

"You have been assigned to my command. You should be aware that my people are going to see that likeness and are going to ask you about it." Roy said carefully as he kept his regret out of his voice.

Von Hohenheim frowned. The one-eyed man's questions had brought back unwelcome memories and it was hard not to feel resentment at the way he had demanded answers. But he could see the man's point. If he really did look so much like this Elric person, then it was better he found out now, than tomorrow.

"I understand, Sir." He said reluctantly.

"I will expect you here tomorrow afternoon, after you have settled in, Major."

"Yes Sir." Von Hohenheim saluted and bowed his head before leaving the room.

Roy sat back in his chair and took a slow breath in and let it out even slower. This was not going to be easy. It was not going to be easy at all.

"Roy?" Havoc's tentative voice came from the door and Roy waved him in.

"I know. It's uncanny." Roy said quietly.

"Is it him?"

"No." Roy said and he wasn't quite able to keep the pain out of his voice. Havoc noticed and frowned slightly. "You'd better warn the others, Jean. And we'll make sure we tell Al as well, _before_ he sees him." He sighed.

"Are you sure it's not him, Roy?" Havoc asked again, a wistful tone to his voice.

"He received his injuries ten years ago, Jean. He doesn't know the name Elric, and he comes from somewhere I've never heard of. I had to explain to him the purposes for his watch." Roy said.

"Could he be lying?"

"He seems to be the most honest person I've ever met." Roy sighed again. "I couldn't see anything in him to suggest he was being anything but completely open with me."

"How could he not know what the watch means? How far away has he come from? I've never heard an accent like that one."

"His resemblance is part of the reason why he has been placed here. The other is the strength of his alchemy. And if he has come from outside our borders, then it's possible that he would be ignorant of what the watch entails. Where ever he's from, they certainly made sure he was very well trained in alchemy. It's about the only thing he does know."

"We'll keep an eye on him, Sir." Havoc said.

"Do that." Roy agreed, although he felt a slight twinge inside at thinking that anyone who looked like Edward Elric could be a danger. "And see if you can find anything on a place called Germany."

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Edward von Hohenheim was punctual and he was at the front desk five minutes before he was due the next morning. He was met by a dour Sergeant who had him filling in forms for twenty minutes before leading him to the Quartermaster's Stores to collect his uniform. He was then shown to a single room which he was informed was his dorm and that the rules were listed on the sheet on the wall. He was then given a comprehensive tour of the complex which consisted of 'this is the range', 'this is the gym' and 'research and the libraries are over here' and being dragged through each and every building. He was then led back to his room and told he could change into his uniform and have lunch in the Mess as he was due at General Mustang's office at one to start his official duties.

He thanked the Sergeant and closed the door. He looked at his room and sat down with a rather stunned expression on his face. Just what the hell had he gotten himself into, he wondered. Everything he had just seen was a jumbled mass of impressions in his head and he wasn't sure he remembered the way to the showers, let alone the Mess. He looked at the list of Rules on the wall by the door and was relieved to see a small map of Headquarters next to it. He looked around the room and smiled slightly. Basic, it was very basic. The bed, a cupboard, a desk and chair, a raggy couch and a small table. At least it had a window, he thought.

The little bits of information on the military he had been able to garner from the manager at his hotel had not been helpful. As far as he could discover, he was now a 'dog' of that military, that being a Major was better than being a Sergeant and even though he was now an alchemist, he did still intend to pay his bill, didn't he? The manager's wife had been a bit more forthcoming and had at least given him some idea of the military hierarchy and told him to ignore her husband. "He never made Sergeant anyways," she said as she refused his money. "Private he started an' Private he finished." He had smiled and had slipped the money into the small jar he had noticed her using earlier.

He began to open the package containing his uniform and looked at it curiously. It was just as well he had seen everyone else wearing them he thought as he pulled out piece after piece of blue material. Otherwise he'd have no idea how to put it all together.

"Looks more like a cape," he muttered as he held the skirt thing up. His fingers fumbled at the buttons and he frowned. He was going to have to find someone to have a look at his arm. It hadn't been working properly for the last few weeks and his jury-rigging was starting to fail again.. Maybe he should ask the General about it. Obviously the one he resembled had had prosthetics, so the General would know what he had done to take care of them.

Except that he didn't want to ask the General. There had been something about that one-eyed man that unsettled him. He had been looking at him and there had been something in his eye that had made Edward slightly uncomfortable. The resemblance would explain it but there had been something else and Edward had no idea what it was.

He straightened the jacket again as he studied the little map and plotted his way to where the Mess hall was. It didn't look too hard and he shoved the watch in his pocket and left the room, his shoulders rolling slightly as he tried to get used to the stiff material. Several people stared at him as he walked along the corridors and he ignored them. New faces always got stared at and he'd been there, done that before.

Edward von Hohenheim stood just inside the door to the mess, figuring out the system before following the rest to take a tray and join the line moving past the large warming pans. He filled his tray and then moved to an empty space near the end of one of the long trestles. He began eating, concentrating on his meal.

"Is this seat taken, Major?" A voice asked beside him and he looked up to see a brown haired soldier there. He blinked before he realised the man was talking to him and he shook his head.

"No." Edward watched as the man pulled up his stool and placed his tray on the table in a smooth move. He blinked again as he saw just how much food was piled on the tray and wondered how the guy was going eat all of that. The sound of laughing had him looking at the soldier who was grinning widely.

"I know what you're thinking. Everyone else wonders that too." He said with a smiling face. Blue eyes twinkled. "I always eat a lot and we had physical training this morning. That always makes me hungrier than normal. The name's Delsin, Ren Delsin."

"Edward von Hohenheim." Edward replied and held his gloved left hand out. A brief look of surprise crossed Delsin's face but he recovered quickly and shook the blond's hand.

"You new around here?" Delsin asked between mouthfuls. "I don't think I've seen you in here before."

"Yes, first day." Edward replied, slightly amused by the man's straightforward manner.

"I'm in Investigations, where are you placed?"

Edward looked a bit lost but answered. "General Mustang's office." He didn't know what the General's section was. Delsin's eyes went wide and he cast a quick look at von Hohenheim's hip. There was no silver chain in sight and he frowned.

"Are you an alchemist?"

Edward nodded as he swallowed his mouthful. "Yes."

Delsin stared at the young man. He seemed to be so different to anyone he'd met before. The accent and golden eyes automatically made him appear different. He didn't seem to hide anything. Delsin had seen the amusement and confusion on that face. There was something wrong with his right hand as he noticed the young Major did everything with his left hand.

"Where's your watch?"

Edward frowned and looked taken aback at the bluntness.

"In my pocket. Why?" He decided to be equally blunt in return.

"Usually an alchemist will wear it with the chain attached to his belt. That way people know what they are without having to ask."

Edward thought about it and decided that it was a good idea. He nodded to himself. He would do that later on. Delsin watched and wondered how someone as clueless as this guy seemed to be, had managed to become a State Alchemist. He wondered if 'clueless' was the right way to describe him. The openness with which he reacted to everything made him appear almost innocent. The way you could track nearly each thought across his face was something he had rarely seen before. He wondered what or who had convinced him to join the Military.

Edward seemed unconcerned by his tablemate's long stare. He ate neatly and quickly and sat back after he had finished. He looked over at Delsin and found that he was halfway through his lunch. He pulled his watch out and flicked it open.

"I have to go. It was nice to meet you." Edward said in a polite voice as he stood and picked his tray up.

"You too, Major." Delsin spoke clearly, despite having a mouthful at the time. Edward bowed his head slightly and walked away to put his tray on the designated table and left the mess.

Major Delsin watched him leave, noting the slight limp and the ease with which the young man moved. A new alchemist, or new to Central? Delsin pondered and decided the man was the newest alchemist. He knew the examinations had been held over the last few days. Everyone had known that. But it seemed he was the first to actually meet the successful candidate. He grinned.

"You look happy today, Major." A light voice said as a tray appeared on the table beside him. He turned and smiled at the young Second-Lieutenant as she sat down. His voice became teasing.

"I am. I think I finally found someone more unsuited to military life than you are, Schieska my dear."

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Major Edward von Hohenheim worked his way through the corridors and finally arrived at General Mustang's office at five minutes to one. He hesitated in the doorway as he suddenly became the focus of the entire office. He saw the blond Major he had met briefly yesterday but the rest were strangers to him. He swallowed nervously and entered the room, his limp more pronounced as his face flushed, uncomfortable at being the centre of so much attention.

"Major von Hohenheim?" A cool female voice had him looking to meet the sherry eyes of a blonde.

"Yes Ma'am." He replied and saluted. She looked rather taken aback and he frowned. Wasn't he supposed to salute superior officers? He caught the glances being exchanged amongst the others and his frown became deeper. His shoulders tensed and he lifted his chin slightly. He wouldn't let the nerves get to him.

"The General is expecting you."

"Thank you, Ma'am." Edward bowed his head slightly and followed her to the inner office. Hawkeye came straight out and closed the door behind her.

"That… that is… that is just incredible!" First-Lieutenant Breda's eyes were wide. "He looks just like Ed."

"I know. I told you." Havoc replied as he let his breath out. "It's uncanny. I nearly died yesterday when he appeared at the door."

"He looks like Edward Elric, but he certainly doesn't behave like Edward." Senior Warrant Officer Falman said in a calm manner, which was belied by the wide eyes he still had.

"He behaves nothing like Edward used to." Hawkeye said as she sat down.

"He saluted you. Edward rarely saluted anyone." Sergeant Major Fuery remarked in his quiet voice. "And he wasn't comfortable with us staring at him."

"The Chief said he did talk to him about looking like… Fullmetal."

"It's one thing to know about it, it's quite another to be faced with it, Havoc." Fuery replied.

"It's not going to be easy." Hawkeye remarked. "For any of us. And he is strange, for all he looks like Edward, there's something about him that reminds me of Alphonse."

"What do you mean, Hawkeye?" Havoc asked.

"He seemed almost… naïve." She frowned slightly as she tried to find the right words. "Edward would always hide what he was thinking or feeling. Alphonse never did that and neither did …he. You saw him. He was nervous and it showed, he was embarrassed and he blushed."

They were silent and then Breda spoke.

"What are we supposed to call him?"

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Roy Mustang looked at the young Major and took a deep breath. Edward von Hohenheim looked good in his uniform and the sight of him sent another surge of disappointment through him. It should have been Edward Elric in that uniform.

"Here is a roster of your duty times, von Hohenheim." Mustang said as he passed over a slender file. "As a State Alchemist you are given three days, duty free a week for research purposes. The rest of your duties are as outlined in that folder. Basically you will report here and either myself or Lieutenant-Colonel Hawkeye will have a list of the duties for that day."

Von Hohenheim nodded. "Yes Sir."

"Do you have any research plans at this time?"

"No, Sir."

"There are several projects in the Research Division that either need help or have been dropped due to lack of interest and impetus. You are welcome to look there if you wish."

"Thank you, Sir." Von Hohenheim smiled. He loved research and the promise of new research and projects to choose from pleased him.

Roy blinked. It was disconcerting to see that face smile so readily. The accent was less of an irregularity, it was the emotion he showed that made him seem so different. Roy wasn't sure if he would ever get used to the sight of a smiling, happy Edward in his office. He frowned.

"What are we going to call you?" He asked suddenly and von Hohenheim stared at him.

"Pardon, Sir?" He looked at the General with wide eyes. "Is there something wrong with my _name_?" Disbelief was written all over him.

"There's nothing wrong with it, Major." Roy said carefully. "Your resemblance to... the other Edward has me perplexed slightly as to how to have you addressed by my staff as well as by me."

"Edward is my name." Von Hohenheim said after a short pause. "Just because I look like someone else who had the same name, doesn't mean I have to give up my name." There was a stubborn glint in his eyes.

"No-one is suggesting that. If you are comfortable with that, then I have no objections…" _that I can tell you about_ "… to you being 'Edward' in the office. Or von Hohenheim."

"I have always been called Edward, Sir. If my surname is easier or ... more comfortable for everyone... I am not likely to object to my own name." Edward said.

"And the resemblance?"

Edward frowned slightly, recalling the intense scrutiny he had received earlier. "It will pass, Sir." I am no-one's ghost, I am me, he thought defiantly but couldn't stop the little frisson of worry that made his spine twitch.

Roy nodded, slightly skeptically. He heard the faint unease behind the words and knew the young man didn't quite believe it either.

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When Edward von Hohenheim re-entered the outer office, Lieutenant-Colonel Hawkeye showed him where he would be sitting and began to introduce the others to him.

"This is Major Havoc." And Edward held out his left hand with a smile.

"Yes, we met briefly yesterday." Edward said calmly as Havoc shook his hand and stared hard at him.

"First Lieutenant Breda." Breda stood up and extended his right hand and they saw the deep breath the blond took as he extended his right hand. Breda's eyes widened and the blond winced as they shook hands.

"I hope you are satisfied, First Lieutenant." The accented voice said in an excessively polite tone that did not convey the pain that had crossed Edward's face.

"Breda has always been an insensitive idiot." The young bespectacled man said as he approached them. "Kain Fuery."

"Edward von Hohenheim." A genuine smile lit the golden eyes as he saw Fuery extend his left hand and he shook it gratefully.

"He's mostly harmless." The taller grey haired man said, as he offered his left as well with a slight smile and Edward shook his hand. "Vato Falman."

Edward saw Hawkeye and Havoc shaking their heads at Breda and the solid redhead grimaced at them before turning to face Edward.

"They're right. I didn't mean anything by it." Breda said before he took a deep breath and carried on. "But I didn't intend to hurt you."

"Because I look like someone else, you had to test my arm?" Edward's eyebrows rose. He carefully crossed his arms across his chest. "You didn't think to check my leg at the same time? Or do I have that to look forward to later?" He looked around at them all. There was hurt and a visible reluctance to be saying anything on his face. But Edward von Hohenheim had learnt a long time ago that not saying anything could hurt himself and those around him.

"Major." Hawkeye said. "Edward Elric was a member of our team for four years. The resemblance is truly remarkable. You must understand how it feels to us to suddenly see you."

"Lieutenant-Colonel, the General mentioned this likeness. And I was prepared for the stares and for it to be awkward for us all, for a while anyway." Edward paused and he shifted uncomfortably. "But I didn't expect to have my disability attacked so quickly."

"You don't seem disabled to me." Fuery said. "It doesn't seem to slow you down at all."

"It does sometimes." Edward said shortly and he looked away, his cheeks heating. He wasn't used to discussing his missing limbs as openly as this and he had to struggle against his embarrassment.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, Major." Hawkeye said, amazed again at how easy it was to see what he was feeling.

"That would be like expecting Breda to be shamed by his belly." Falman remarked so dryly, that it took the others a few moments to realise what he'd said.

"Unfair, Falman!" Breda exclaimed as the others laughed. "You don't hear me passing comment on your reading habits, do you?"

"Of course he doesn't." Havoc interjected. "You always wait til he leaves the room to do that."

Edward watched them, his eyes slightly wide at the friendly bickering and teasing. They were a close knit group, he realised. He was a stranger, an outsider. And his likeness to that other Edward was going to keep him on the outside.

"Is your arm okay?" He turned and found Fuery beside him. "I noticed you were rubbing your shoulder." Edward blinked and looked at his arm. His left hand was massaging his shoulder and he hadn't even noticed it.

"Ahhh, it's just been playing up the last few weeks." Edward shrugged and felt it twinge again.

"There are some good mechanics in Central if you need to get it checked." Fuery said so matter of factly that Edward found himself responding without his earlier embarrassment.

"A mechanic? For my arm?" He asked in surprise.

"Yes." Fuery nodded. "They'll be able to look at your automail."

"Automail? What's that?"

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Author's Note: Small chapters are definitely easier to write…lol... and thank you so much for the wonderful response to the first chapter.

And Echoes will be up tomorrow... lol...

silken :)


	3. Because You Need A Friend

**To Remember**

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor ever will, Fullmetal Alchemist or the characters within.

* * *

**Chapter 3: "Because you need a friend."**

The office went silent and Edward von Hohenheim found himself the centre of attention again as they all turned to him. He took a step back from their eyes. They were staring at him with disbelief. He blinked. The earlier looks had been understandable, but he didn't see the reasons for these ones. The smaller man stared at him.

"You don't know what automail is?" Fuery almost squeaked.

Edward shook his head. "No." He looked almost guilty as if he had done something wrong by being unaware of what it was.

"It's a form of steel prosthetic, Major." Falman said carefully.

"Steel? Wouldn't that be heavy?" Edward stared at him. "It wouldn't be too flexible either." Edward frowned as he tried to imagine what steel arms and legs would be like.

"No wonder it felt strange when I shook your hand." Breda said slowly. "You don't have automail."

"But they'd still be able to help," Fuery said as he saw Edward becoming more confused. "I can take you there later, if you'd like. Then you'll see what we mean." He offered.

Edward looked Fuery and saw nothing but kindness in the eyes behind the glasses and he responded to it with a nod and a small smile. He didn't see the looks exchanged by the others as they recognized Kain Fuery's protective streak kick in. Edward von Hohenheim didn't know what he had just let himself in for. It was yet another sign that this young man who looked so familiar was not the one they wished he had been.

Fuery took Edward to his desk and began to go through everything he needed to know. From the files that were neatly stacked on the desk to the basic routines of the office, their voices rose and fell for an hour. Even without watching, Hawkeye could hear what von Hohenheim was feeling just from the tone of that accented voice. Whether he was puzzled or curious or pleased at having learnt something it was there. He had to be the most open person she had ever met. Listening and not seeing him made it easier to feel that it wasn't Edward Elric there. It was only when she looked up and caught sight of that so-familiar face that it became awkward again.

Fuery went back to his own desk and Edward opened the first of the files. The concentration he had shown in the exam became apparent to the office. He worked through file after file without question or complaint. He wrote and he read, he frowned occasionally but he never asked for help. He went through everything and by late afternoon he had it all completed. He smiled with satisfaction as he closed the last file and he looked up, blinking at the activity around him.

"It's time to go home now, Major." Hawkeye said as she met his eyes. Everyone was straightening and tidying their desks, so he did the same. Falman gathered the completed files and placed them in the collection trays. He watched and copied to make sure he was doing it correctly. Fuery showed him where some things went.

"I'll ring around about the automail tomorrow, Major." Fuery said as he closed the filing cabinet. Edward nodded. He was curious but also a bit apprehensive about having anyone come close to his prosthetics. He knew it had to be looked at, the twinges were getting worse, but this was his first day and he didn't mind putting that off until tomorrow.

They began leaving and he followed them out, straightening his jacket and gloves. He wasn't sure what made him turn around and he met the single dark eye of the General who was standing in his office door. Edward felt himself paused for the briefest moment before he blinked and the General was gone.

* * *

"Von Hohenheim! Edward!" The call broke though his concentration and he looked up blinking to find Kain Fuery standing in front of him.

"I'm sorry, Sergeant Major. I was …"

"It's ok, Major. I was asking if you wanted to come to the mess with us for lunch."

Edward looked around him. "I didn't realise it was lunchtime. I'm sorry." He took a deep breath and looked at his desk. Since he had appeared at eight this morning he had been working. File after file, folders and papers shifting smoothly. He had missed the glances amongst the others as they had watched him concentrate. He hadn't even stirred when the phones had rung. They had seen it yesterday afternoon and they realised again just how focused he could be. Like the Edward he wasn't, he could concentrate, unlike the other Edward, this one could concentrate on paperwork.

"Falman and I have early lunch this week. We stagger the lunch times so the office is always manned. If you like, you can come with us." Fuery explained patiently and saw Edward nod. "You can finish them off when we get back." He added as he saw Edward glance at the few files left on his desk.

"Yes, if that is acceptable, then yes, I'd like to come to lunch with you."

Fuery smiled and he and Falman waited as Edward closed the file and put his pen neatly to one side before standing up to join them. He was straightening his jacket and gloves as he followed them from the office.

Havoc looked at Breda.

"I wonder if… von Hohenheim likes dogs."

* * *

Edward felt comfortable with Fuery and Falman. He could see that they were disturbed by the resemblance as much as everyone else was, but he could also see that they were trying to make him feel welcome. By the time they reached the mess Fuery and Falman had managed to convince him to use their surnames and not their ranks. He could understand their reluctance to call him by his first name so he was content to be on last-name terms with them.

There seemed to be more people here now than there had been at breakfast this morning and they had to wait longer in the queue. Table places were scarcer too but they found a spot near the rear doors.

"Early lunch is usually the busiest at the moment," Falman remarked as they settled in their places. "More people take the earlier roster times when the weather's warm like this."

Edward nodded. That made sense and he watched people continually cycling through the room. The noise level varied, dipping occasionally but never stopping. It was all so normal and no-one stared and he felt himself relaxing.

"I found a few places listed that do automail, von Hohenheim. Did you want to go today or tomorrow?" Fuery asked.

Edward paused as he thought. "Much as I'd like to put it off, I really shouldn't. Today is fine. Thank you."

"If you don't have automail, what do you have, if you don't mind me asking?" Fuery replied, slightly hesitantly.

"My Dad, he built these." He paused, frowning as he tried to find a way to explain it. "They sort of connect to my nerves and muscles rather than just strapped on, like most prosthetics are."

"So it is similar to automail, then." Falman stated and Edward looked at him puzzled.

"How is it similar?"

"Automail is connected to the nerves as well. But not the muscles, if I remember. I believe the surgery is extremely painful and it takes a few years to become fully integrated with it."

"But you said yesterday it was made of steel. How is that even possible?"

"The inner workings aren't steel. They're pneumatics and wiring that use the power of the nerves to make it work. There's two parts to it. A port and a limb."

Edward looked very confused and curious.

"You'll see when we go this afternoon. It'll be easier to show than explain, von Hohenheim." Fuery remarked. "It sounds like your dad would be interested too, if he made yours. You'll be able to tell him all about it though, won't you?"

Edward swallowed slightly. "My dad died a couple of months ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Fuery said, his face sympathetic. "That's a shame. I bet he'd have been proud of you passing the Exams."

"Yes, it was something he always wanted me to do." Edward looked down for a moment and then straightened up, clearing the sorrow from his eyes. "He taught me everything he could about alchemy."

"My mother raised me." Fuery said slowly. "My father died when I was very little. She always wanted me to be in the military because he had been in it."

They both looked at Falman and he stared back. "I joined because it was best suited to my temperament." They blinked at him and then they saw his lips curl slightly. They both laughed and Falman smiled, pleased to have disrupted the melancholic atmosphere.

"Vato!" A female voice called and Edward watched with fascination as the man's cheeks went pink. Fuery grinned and then looked down at his plate as Falman shot a glare at him. Edward looked from one to the other. He saw Falman take a deep breath and then turn to greet the woman who was approaching. Brunette hair lifted out of her eyes as she blew upwards, her glasses glinting slightly as she came closer.

"Schieska. How nice to see you." He said politely, almost stiltedly. Edward looked at Fuery with a confused frown at the sudden change in the grey haired man. Fuery shook his head quickly and mouthed "will tell you later" at him. Edward nodded and turned back to see two wide eyes of forest green staring at him.

"Edward?" The brunette asked in a stunned voice and Falman took her tray and placed it on the table before she dropped it. The young woman came closer and Edward backed away a little bit.

"I think you have me confused with someone else." He said politely, his accent more pronounced. "I am Edward von Hohenheim."

"But…you have your father's name?" She asked, her face pale.

"My father's name was Phillip. Phillip von Hohenheim."

"Schieska, this is not Edward Elric." Falman said gently and she stared from one to the other. Fuery shook his head and the golden eyes looked sympathetically at her, if still a bit wary.

"I'm sorry, it's just you look so much like him." She said as she straightened her glasses and took a deep breath.

"Yes, several people have mentioned it." Von Hohenheim said carefully, as they all shifted to make room for her.

"That must make this all seem very strange to you then I guess." She said as she sat down between him and Falman. "I mean you do look so much like him, although your hair is longer and the way you talk as well, that accent is almost exotic in a way. You're taller too. And you're left handed as well. Is that natural or do you have automail like he did? I have this friend who makes the best automail. Are you working in the General's office? Are you an alchemist…?"

Edward stared wide-eyed at her as she spoke. He had never met anyone like her before. He could see Falman going redder and redder behind her and he was almost positive he could feel Fuery shaking on the other side of him.

"You talk a lot, don't you?" He suddenly asked in a dazed voice. There was a muffled noise from Fuery and he thought he saw Falman shake but he wasn't sure. He was staring at this Schieska person who was staring straight back at him.

"I talk a bit." She said, blinking. "It's a nervous habit and I sometimes get carried away and I can't stop it, but it's not too bad and I can control it."

Edward kept staring. He was confounded by her. If this was controlling it, he would hate to see her out of control.

"The Major joined yesterday, Schieska. He's the newest State Alchemist." Falman said, somehow managing to keep his voice steady. Edward looked at the man with gratitude. He really had no idea how to cope with someone like her. Schieska turned to Falman and Edward took a deep breath of relief.

"So he is working with you then?"

"Yes." Falman nodded.

Edward felt Fuery straightening up and looked at the shorter man. His eyes were suspiciously bright and he was having a hard time keeping the smile from his face. He grinned at Edward.

"Schieska works in Investigations." And then he added softly. "She can be a bit over-enthusiastic at times."

"I met someone from Investigations here yesterday. A Major Delsin."

Schieska turned back to face him. "I know him too. You must be the one he was talking about then. He teases me all the time about being unsuited to the Military and maybe I am, but I've been here over five years now, and I'm going to stay. And you'll do the same, I know. Even if it doesn't suit you either."

Edward looked taken aback at that. "I hadn't planned to leave so soon after joining. And it suits me just fine." He said. "New experiences are always different and unsettling at first but once I've been here a while it will be easier."

"It will, von Hohenheim." Falman said and Edward smiled.

Schieska watched as Fuery began to tell Edward about his first day. The blond man smiled and was sympathetic and appeared completely engrossed in what Fuery was saying. She turned to Falman with a confused look on her face.

"Vato?" She asked softly.

"I know." He replied equally quietly. "But it's not him. We've been watching him yesterday afternoon and all this morning. He may look like Edward, but he behaves nothing like him. He's probably more naïve than Fuery is."

She sighed. "It would have been so nice. I know how much Winry and Al miss him. Al still looks for him."

"I know, Schieska. Perhaps in your next letter to Winry you should mention this. She comes for her visit soon and if she sees him without knowing anything about this, it's going to be very hard for her."

"What about Al?"

"The General's going to let him know before he returns." Falman looked over her shoulder to where Fuery and Edward were still talking. "Don't say too much to anyone else, Schieska. No-one really knows what to do yet."

"I won't." She frowned. "It can't be easy for him either." She mused.

"It's not." Falman said. "Although he's probably coping better than the rest of us are."

* * *

Edward von Hohenheim found the afternoon went slower. Once the files were taken care of, he had nothing else to do. Everyone else seemed to have something to keep busy with. Except him.

"Lieutenant-Colonel?" He said hesitantly and she looked up.

"Yes?"

"Is there more for me to do, or is that it?" He asked, feeling a bit guilty for interrupting her.

"You've finished those files?" She stared at him. After seeing how he had concentrated yesterday and this morning she wasn't that surprised that he had finished. It was his apparent willingness to do more that startled her.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Well, there's not really anything specifically for you. I have to go to the range, you can accompany me if you like."

"Yes Ma'am." He smiled. It would be good to be moving around. Sitting down for too long made his left leg twitchy.

"Major, call me Hawkeye, or Sir." She said with a slight twitch of her shoulders as she collected papers neatly into a folder.

"Yes, Ma… Sir." Edward said and straightened the things on his desk. She noticed that he put his pen in the exact same place he had put it in before lunch as she stood up.

Edward got up from his chair and gave his left leg a discreet shake as he moved to follow her. He straightened his jacket and gloves as he moved. "Would you like me to carry them, Sir?" He indicated the folders in her hands as they went through the door.

"No, Major. I can manage these. Thank you." She said with a smile. This Edward was so much more like Alphonse than she had first thought. She watched him from the corner of her eye. His gait was smooth, even with the limp and he was looking around, his eyes wide and curious. She knew what the initial tour was like so he was probably seeing things now he hadn't had time to notice before.

The differences in his character made it hard for her to feel any resentment over the fact that he resembled someone he wasn't. You couldn't resent someone for something they couldn't help. And he couldn't help that he looked like Edward Elric. Fuery had passed around the snippets of information he had discovered at lunchtime and there appeared to be nothing that would indicate he was anyone other than who he said he was. It was just his physical appearance that got to them.

"Do you know how to shoot, Major?" She asked as they neared the range.

"Yes Sir." He said as he looked at the solid squat building.

"You can shoot a few rounds while you wait if you want."

"Thank you, Sir." He smiled and then it disappeared. "I wasn't issued with a firearm, Sir."

"Alchemists aren't, but the range always has some here for those who don't bring their own weapons or want to try something different." She paused. "I assume you shoot left handed?"

"Yes Sir." His pause was minimal. "I can't judge the pressure on the trigger and the recoil can sometimes cause my fingers to loosen on the grip if I try to use my right." He was finding the ease with which they spoke of his missing limbs rubbing off on him. Their matter-of-fact attitude and the fact they never appeared disgusted or affected by it helped.

"I understand. There are several others who shoot left."

He smiled suddenly. "You shoot both," he said.

"Yes, but how did you know that?"

"Calluses on both hands, Sir." And she shifted the files in her arms to look at her hands and the tell tale patches of toughened skin. She frowned and he took a step back.

"I'm sorry Sir. Maybe I shouldn't have said that." He looked worried and when she looked at him, she saw that he was also concerned that he might have hurt her feelings.

"It's ok, Major." She smiled ruefully. He hesitated slightly but she shook her head at him. "I mean it. I have been shooting for a lot of years now, it's only natural that I bear the marks from that." She looked at him. His transparency was almost frightening she thought, and yet he had managed to see something she wasn't sure anyone else had. And he had known her for just over a day.

"Come on, von Hohenheim. Let's find you a gun." She spoke almost cheerfully and she saw the baffled look on his face as she turned into the range.

* * *

They were late getting back to the office and the smell of cordite almost preceded them as they entered. Both looked comfortable with each other and Edward was smiling happily as he looked over to Fuery.

"Do we just turn up at this automail place, or do I need to make an appointment?" He asked.

"No, we can just go there. It's nearly time to go anyway. Did you enjoy the range?"

Edward's eyes lit up. "Oh yes. It was great. The alleys are just the right length. Hawkeye has organized some time on the open range tomorrow." Fuery blinked at von Hohenheim's enthusiasm. He had never seen anyone get that excited about shooting, not even Hawkeye. And then he blinked again as he realised von Hohenheim had used Hawkeye's name. He looked at Hawkeye but she was merely smiling slightly as she reordered the files on her desk.

"If you wanted to leave a bit early Fuery, you can." She said as she met his eyes. "Von Hohenheim has finished and you look like you're nearly done."

"I am, Lieutenant-Colonel. These last diagrams aren't needed yet." He looked at von Hohenheim who had come over and was looking at the schematics on his desk. "Did you want to go now?"

Edward shrugged and felt his shoulder twinge. "Yes, if it's alright."

"Then we will." Fuery gathered his things and Edward helped by attaching the drawings to their hangers and sliding them into the rack.

Good night everyone." Fuery said from the door and Edward echoed him.

A chorus of good nights followed them and they disappeared.

"Spill it Hawkeye. What happened at the range?" Havoc asked as soon as they could no longer hear them.

"Why do you think anything happened, Havoc?"

"Because you took over an hour and you called him 'von Hohenheim', he's calling you 'Hawkeye' and you're smiling. Take your pick." He grinned at her.

"He can shoot." She said and they stared at her.

"How do you mean?" Breda asked.

"I mean that he can outshoot every one of you here. He can shoot."

"Not you too?" Falman asked with wide eyes.

"No. But he's pretty damned close." She replied. "I think if he didn't have the right arm he has, he would've been equal."

"That's not possible, Hawkeye. No-one gets that close to you." Havoc protested.

"He couldn't use a two-handed grip for extra stability during a shot, Havoc. I think his arm is worse than he's letting on because it looked like he was going to try a couple of times but he just couldn't get the arm to move properly. Also, his stance is slightly uneven due to the weight of his arm. If he didn't have to compensate for it, we would have had the same score."

"Edward couldn't shoot to save his life." Breda muttered.

"I know. But he had other resources." She paused. "Von Hohenheim says his father taught him to shoot at first and then found someone to teach him properly as he was growing up. His disability meant that he couldn't use hand to hand or any sort of fighting techniques, so he learnt to shoot instead." She looked at them. "It's only his appearance that looks like Edward. _He_ is not Edward."

Roy Mustang stood just inside his door and leant against the wall. He had been listening for awhile and he heard the decisiveness in her voice. He closed his eye. Yesterday afternoon had been hard, listening to them talking and hearing that voice that was and yet wasn't the one he wanted to hear. It was coming from the right face, it was just the wrong sound. He had not expected to be seen as he had watched them… him leave. And the almost startled expression had kept him company through the long night.

Today he had stopped himself from going into the outer office. The accented voice had been easy to hear and he had stopped every time he had heard it. Despite the accent, despite everything he heard them saying and despite even his own almost certainty, he just could not get rid of the small hope that it was Edward Elric out there. That he was back, changed, different, with some form of memory loss.

He sighed. He foresaw another sleepless night ahead. There were some things that even alcohol couldn't ease.

* * *

Edward von Hohenheim found himself liking Kain Fuery as they walked down the avenue outside Headquarters. The smaller man seemed completely at ease and never let the resemblance affect him, even though Edward knew that it had to be. He wondered if it was too soon to consider Fuery a friend.

He had enjoyed the time spent at the range and he had a new respect for the Lieutenant-Colonel. She could shoot better than anyone he knew. With either hand. He had watched her shoot with amazement. She never missed a target. It was incredible. He had felt nervous shooting against her and he had been very pleased not to have let himself or his teachers down, by being able to stay within a few shots of her score.

He was feeling relieved that his first full day hadn't been as bad as he thought it could have been. He was slightly nervous about the thought of this automail business though. Only his dad had ever worked on his arm and leg. He knew how to make small repairs to it, but his father had known much, much more. But it was getting worse. The twinges in his shoulder were starting to make it harder for him to move his arm normally. That was the problem with his arm. Once it started to play up, it had a tendency to deteriorate rapidly and then fail completely soon afterwards.

It had been awkward during his teenage years when his arm or his leg would fail him, usually at the worst possible moment. He had found out very early on that people did not like to see or even to know why he limped or couldn't use his right arm properly. He always kept his scars hidden. But now he was going to have let a complete stranger look at them and Edward could feel himself slipping back into that awkward teenage feeling of being different and dreading the reactions to it.

"You ok, von Hohenheim?" Fuery's gentle voice queried.

Edward shook his head. "Yes, no, just nervous, I guess." He said and he looked at the shorter man who smiled back at him.

"You'll be fine." Fuery said. "Besides, the sooner you get it looked at, the better you'll be."

Edward smiled back but the nerves still flitted around and had his left hand tensing slightly.

"And I did say I'd tell you about Vato and Schieska." Fuery said, noting the tension hadn't left his blond companion and sought to distract him.

"Yes." Edward nodded, grateful to have something else to think about.

"A few months ago, we had a small party for…" _Al_ "…a friend of ours and everyone was there. Vato doesn't normally drink much but he did this time and he started following her around. Everyone thought it was very funny and Schieska didn't seem to mind. Well, not until he was sick all over her. That sort of made things awkward. Especially when he couldn't remember any of it the day afterwards."

"He couldn't remember anything?" Edward queried, an eyebrow climbing. "But wasn't Falman almost blushing today?"

"Not a thing." Fuery smiled slightly. "Falman likes her, but he can't bring himself to tell her. He's still embarrassed by what happened back then."

"She didn't seem uncomfortable, Fuery." Edward said in a puzzled tone. "So why is he still embarrassed?"

"Because that's how he is." Fuery smiled. "Being sick on someone you like is bad enough, but not being able to remember it afterwards must be worse."

Edward realised again just how close a group these people were. He was a bit surprised that Fuery was sharing this with him. But Fuery struck him as someone who would always be looking out for something to look after. Had he decided that Edward needed his help? Had Edward von Hohenheim just become a _cause_? He frowned and he felt a bit hurt that anyone would consider him as someone needing help.

"Von Hohenheim?" Fuery was looking at him with concern.

"Why are you being so friendly, Fuery?" Edward asked and he tensed slightly.

"Because you need a friend." Fuery replied simply.

Edward blinked. "I need a friend?"

"Yes." Fuery stared at the blond and saw the poorly concealed hurt and the complete bafflement in the golden eyes. Edward von Hohenheim was so open, Fuery thought. He had never met any anyone who showed every thought or feeling on his face. It made him wonder what was in the young man's past to have made him this way. Fuery had seen hints that he hadn't had an easy life, and yet he was still so…so innocent.

Fuery watched now as indecision shifted and a cautious acceptance appeared in the golden eyes and he smiled sincerely. He really did want to be a friend. He didn't see the man in front of him as someone needing pity, but some one who was just a bit lost and needed a hand. Fuery had never been a loud, boisterous person. He had a niche and he was comfortable there. He had had lost moments before, he knew what it felt like to be set somewhere without anything reassuring close by.

"I'd like that." Edward's voice was hesitant and almost reluctant. Fuery wondered if he had ever really had a friend before, and he smiled at the blond.

"Come on, let's get you to the mechanic." Fuery said cheerfully and pointed down the street. "It's just up there."

Edward felt as confused as he had when Hawkeye had led him into the range. He had enjoyed that, somehow he didn't think this would be quite so much fun. But he had a friend now. He smiled and nodded testing the words inside. A friend.

That thought kept him smiling until the man in the shop said, "let's have a look then."

"Call me Fic" the man had said when they had entered the small shop and Edward had stared wide-eyed at the limbs that shone on the walls. Legs and arms with plates, without plates, wires and cables. All sizes, all shapes. He was dumbstruck and realised why no-one was that concerned about his missing limbs. There was a whole industry devoted to it.

"My friend is having problems with his arm." Fuery said as he saw Edward was completely dazed by everything.

"Let's have a look then." And Edward turned to face them, his face going pale and he swallowed, his left hand cupping his right elbow.

"I can wait out here, von Hohenheim." Fuery said. Edward nodded slowly, feeling his stomach becoming unsettled.

Fic indicated a small room off the shop and Edward took a deep breath as he walked across to the curtained alcove. Fuery smiled reassuringly at him.

"You'll be fine."

"Thanks." Edward said nervously.

"I take it you've only had one mechanic before then." Fic said as he watched. He recognised the signs. He had been an automail mechanic for nearly thirty years and it was the only thing he had ever wanted to do.

"Yes. My father." Edward paused. "It's not automail I have." He added hesitantly.

Fic's eyes brightened. "I always like new things. Let's get comfortable son, and see what you do have." He ushered Edward into the room and drew the curtain just as Edward shot an anguished look over his shoulder to Fuery, who nearly laughed.

Edward pulled his jacket off and undid his shirt, pulling it down on the right to reveal the large solid prosthetic at his shoulder. He pulled the arm out of the sleeve and kept his shirt covering his left side.He noticed that Fic didn't look at anything but his arm and his shoulder before turning to the shelves next to him.

"It's always hard when you come to a new person the first time," Fic said as he set out a few tools, speaking casually to put the young man in a more relaxed state. "People get attached to their mechanics just as much as they get attached to their prosthetic. Now this is interesting. It goes into your shoulder?" He leant closer to look at the joins.

"Yes." Edward said, feeling a bit of the tension ease as there was nothing but interest and curiousity in the man's eyes.

"Lift your arm, give me your hand. Ahh I see. Now lift it higher. Can you grip? Oh, very interesting. This hurts here? It's connected through this line?" Fic sat back, his eyes wide. "How long have you had this?"

"I had the first one nine years ago. Dad changed them as I grew."

"Them?"

"Yes, my leg as well."

"And it's the same design as your arm?"

"Yes." Ed replied.

"I want to meet your dad, son. This is incredible work." Fic shook his head. "It's like automail and yet it's not. You have muscles connected as well as nerves and it's connected straight into your shoulder joint, not a port like this." And he waved at a shell like object on the bench beside him. "How do you remove it?"

"There's a switching mechanism inside the joint that disconnects everything."

"And reattachment?"

"I believe there's several bundled connections and the arm is pushed back into the joint and relocked back in."

Fic frowned. "The pain levels must be high."

Edward shrugged and felt it twinge. "It's just pain, it always hurts." Ever since they had been attached.

"But it hurts more now?"

"Yes, there's something wrong and it's pulling at the nerves somehow."

Fic looked at Edward's shoulder closely and pushed his screwdriver against several of the wires.

"And you've never had automail?"

"No." Edward shook his head.

"Remarkable." Fic replied. "The scars at the back of your shoulder look just like automail ones."

* * *

Author's Note: After two short chapters to make it seem innocent, comes the longer chapter… I really must learn to not waffle so much and try to keep to word or page limits… it is becoming a bad habit to start these small and then grow.

Phillip von Hohenheim is the original name of Philippus Theophrastus Aureolus Bombastus von Hohenheim who then called himself Paracelsus... but you all knew that didn't you?...lol

silken :)


	4. I Wish We Knew More About Him

**To Remember**

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor ever will, Fullmetal Alchemist or the characters within.

* * *

**Chapter 4: "I wish we knew more about him."**

Fic's words had Edward straining to see over his shoulder. Fic smiled at the young man.

"You wouldn't be able to tell the difference. But I've been doing automail for years and I know what automail scars look like." Fic peered at them and traced one lightly. "Feel, it runs across your muscle here. A linking connection for a port would have slotted in here. And this one…" he traced another scar "…this is where I would have secured the port through to your shoulder."

Edward felt his muscles twitch under the light touch and he frowned. "I've always had these prosthetics. The scars are from the …accident."

"Strange indeed then." Fic studied the join and shifted more wires. "Perhaps you should get your father to call past when he comes to visit. I'd love to discuss his work with him."

"He's dead." Edward said quietly.

"Ah, such a shame. It would have been an interesting conversation." Fic sat back. "You know, it wouldn't take much to replace what you have with automail."

"No-one has really explained this automail to me." Edward said, his head tilting and curiousity in his voice.

"It can be hard sometimes. Most people see it as a prosthetic that's expensive and extremely painful to have attached. Simply put, it's a prosthetic set that is connected to your nerves and uses the electricity generated by your muscles to power it. It's very similar to what you have, but yours seems to have some connections to nerves and others linking into muscles. That's probably because your arm is actually locked into your shoulder socket rather having an automail port which would act as a buffer between the two."

Fic put his tools down and leant back in his chair, pulling up his trouser leg. Edward looked with interest at the steel limb that appeared and watched as Fic removed the covering plates revealing the inner workings. Fic picked up his screwdriver again and began to show Edward exactly how the automail worked.

"You should consider changing what you have." Fic said as they sat back again. "Your arm isn't really going to last much longer. Even if I fix it today, it's going to need looking at again within a month or so. And automail wouldn't cause the continual pain you have now."

Edward frowned. He had always had pain. It came with the prosthetics. When they played up, like his arm was now, it hurt more than normal. But he couldn't imagine what it would be like to be completely pain-free. And the automail certainly looked better, even if it was metal compared to the rubbery silicon based covering that his father had used.

"But you said the rehabilitation is long. I…I don't know that I could do that so soon after having been accepted." Edward waved a hand at his uniform.

"I've done work for military personnel before, they know me. But you've already learnt how to manipulate your muscles and body around a prosthetic. You don't need rehabilitation. You'd just need to become accustomed to the different feel of new materials." Fic paused, frowning slightly as he thought the procedure through. "Even if I replaced both of them at the same time, you'd probably only need a month or two to acclimatise."

Edward stared at him, a slim eyebrow rising. "That doesn't seem very long." He remembered the long years after he had had the prosthetics attached.

"I know, but as I said, you already have prosthetics, your body knows what to do and you're young and fit. It would be just like replacing ones you had grown out of. I can change the port design to accommodate your shoulder joint and the existing connections. You said your leg is the same as your shoulder. I can modify two ports just as easily as one."

Edward was tempted but he wasn't willing to just agree without giving it a lot of thought and he felt a bit guilty at wanting something other than what his father had designed.

"I need to think about this," he said looking at Fic.

"I wouldn't have expected otherwise." Fic replied and then waved at his arm. "I'll do what I can for now and you get back to me. I know some people you can talk to if you want to check on my work."

"Thank you, Sir." Edward said as he felt his nerves twinge as Fic started on his arm.

"Call me Fic. I have the feeling we'll be seeing a lot more of each other, son."

"Fic. I'm Edward, Edward von Hohenheim."

"Nice to meet you, Ed." Fic laughed slightly as he dug deeper into the wires and began tightening them.

* * *

Fuery listened idly to the voices behind the curtain as he drew schematics in his notebook to keep himself occupied. His ears had pricked up at the possibility of von Hohenheim having had automail in the past. But the accented voice had been completely devoid of any knowledge of it either by words or tone. Fuery wondered how he had lost his limbs. He had heard the slight change to von Hohenheim's voice when he had mentioned an accident. It was obviously not a pleasant memory.

When the curtain was pulled back he looked up and saw them re-entering. Von Hohenheim's face was slightly pale but he seemed to be moving his arm much easier. He was straightening his jacket and there was a thoughtful expression on his face. Fuery smiled. Like Fic, he was fairly certain von Hohenheim would return and get the automail.

Within five minutes they had left the shop and headed back to the military compound. Edward had a list of names and information about the automail procedure.

"Do you think I could get the time to have this done, Fuery?" He asked, reading the pages as they walked.

"You'd have to see the General, but I don't see why not."

"Fic says it will only take a month or so." Edward said as he wondered if the General would approve a request for this.

"That's good, right? I mean, I know it usually takes years." Fuery replied watching the blond man frown slightly.

"Yes, very long years." Edward said in a low voice, his face shadowed.

"I'm sorry." Fuery said as he slowed his pace.

"It's okay, Fuery. It does take years and I guess I just find it a bit hard to believe that it would only take a couple of months." And that he wouldn't have the continual pain. The more he thought about it, the more tempted he became.

* * *

Edward von Hohenheim smiled slightly as he worked the next morning. Without the twinges from his right shoulder, he felt almost normal again. The pain that was always there he barely felt, he was too accustomed to it. He worked steadily as usual and could reach easily for pages and files without feeling his shoulder protest. There was more flexibility in his fingers and it was good to be able to use both arms again.

Havoc and Hawkeye watched him, noticing the changes. In the two days they had known him, he had been open and they had seen him shift easily between emotions. His eyes were brighter today. The ease of movement he demonstrated now made them realise how restricted he had been. They had seen Edward Elric move freely and easily with his automail. It had been barely noticeable and even when he had damaged it, it had never really slowed him down. But this Edward had obviously never taken that ease of movement for granted. His circumstances had left him swinging between the ease he had now and a self-controlled restricted state. He had known exactly how far he had been able to move to avoid unnecessary pain and discomfort.

When Hawkeye stood and offered to take him to the open range as they had organised yesterday, his smile was brighter as well. He even used his right hand to wave briefly at Fuery as he straightened his jacket before leaving the office.

Havoc looked at Fuery.

"So, how did it go yesterday?"

"It went well, I think." Fuery said thoughtfully. "He wasn't very comfortable at first but Fic, the mechanic, helped."

"What does he have under there if it's not automail?" Breda asked curiously. "It had a really weird feel when I shook his hand the other day."

"I don't know, I didn't see it. But Fic was all over it, he'd never seen anything like it before. Apparently it goes right into his shoulder, it sounded like it was all one piece."

Havoc frowned. "I wish we knew more about him."

"Fic said some of the scars on his shoulder looked like automail ones." Fuery said and they looked at him.

"What did von Hohenheim say to that?" Breda asked.

"He said he'd always had the style of arm he had now and the scars were from the accident."

"What sort of accident I wonder?" Havoc queried. "He didn't say how he lost his limbs?"

Fuery shook his head. "No. I don't think he likes remembering it. And I think that those prosthetics that he has are really painful, even now."

"He's never said anything." Breda replied.

"Not directly, but he wasn't happy when you shook that hand, Breda." Havoc pointed out. "He wasn't slow in letting you know that either."

"I apologised for that. I didn't know there was a problem with it." Breda said, slightly defensively. "You're right, Havoc. I think we have to find out more about him."

"I have the librarians searching for this Germany place he's from, but it's only been a day and they haven't found anything yet. And apart from Hohenheim of Light, that name just doesn't appear anywhere else." Havoc frowned. "And the mechanic had never seen that sort of prosthetic before?" he asked Fuery.

"No, I think it's unique. Von Hohenheim says his father made it. Fic had never seen anything like it."

"Hmm, maybe its' region specific workmanship." Breda pondered. "That could help locate his homeland."

Havoc sighed. "If he didn't look so much like Ed, we wouldn't be worrying about it."

* * *

Edward von Hohenheim took a week to decide that if he could get permission for the time off from his duties, then he would get automail. He read everything he could find on the subject and spoke to the people recommended by Fic. He asked Fuery for directions to the various locations and Fuery went with him for the first few times. He watched as von Hohenheim became fascinated with the City. By the end of the week, von Hohenheim was dragging Fuery with him from place to place as he discovered more of the City.

Every night after work he would persuade the smaller man to come with him as he found shops and galleries and parks where he would look around him in golden-eyed wonder and interest. Fuery showed him where the State Libraries were and he discovered that once von Hohenheim went in, he wouldn't come out unless he was kicked out.

Fuery smiled as he watched the young man disappear into the General's office, closing the door behind him.

"You like him, Fuery?" Hawkeye's voice was soft.

"Yes, I do." He looked over at her. "Everything fascinates him. And he shares it with everyone. It's like he has no idea of what real life can be."

"Completely innocent?" Havoc asked sceptically.

Fuery frowned and shook his head. "Not really. Seeing anyone being bullied makes him angry and he doesn't hesitate to step in. He's always offering to help if he thinks someone needs it. But he's cautious, he doesn't walk in without looking around first. He always listens but he never actually talks about himself. Even direct questions. It's like he only gives part of the answer. And yet he never lies. He's so honest and open. I have never met anyone like him before."

"But he holds himself back?"

"Yes." Fuery nodded. "You can see him do it. It's as if he's protecting himself from something. And he always looks like he's hurting when he does it, I never feel like I can ask."

"I can't find anything about his homeland. It's like it doesn't exist." Havoc reported.

"Does he have any family, Fuery?" Hawkeye asked.

"I don't know. He's only ever mentioned his dad."

"We're going to have to ask him." Havoc remarked and the others looked at him.

"I don't think we should." Fuery disagreed.

"How else are we going to find out?" Havoc asked.

"But asking like that would mean that we don't trust him." Fuery protested.

"And until I know more, I'm not going to trust him." Havoc replied. "He's a nice guy as far as I can see, he's always nice and polite and friendly. He works hard, he ignores just about everything else when he's here and he doesn't take offence when we joke around. He's boring and bland and he looks so much like the Boss it freaks me out." He looked from Hawkeye to Fuery. "I know you like him. I know he's not the Boss, but I don't like all these gaps and holes. If he's not Edward Elric, then who is he and why is he here? He comes from nowhere, takes the exam, passes like no-one else has ever passed before and does paperwork like his life depended on it. If you can't see something wrong with that, then I'm really worried. You two would never let a stranger be here a week in this office and not know everything about them. Why is he any different?"

Hawkeye frowned for a long moment. "It's the resemblance. I guess we're all still hoping that he is Edward Elric, even as we convince ourselves otherwise. Not knowing, not trying to find out allows us that small hope." She paused and looked at Fuery. "We have to ask. We have to find out one way or the other."

* * *

General Roy Mustang looked at the blond Major. So similar, so different. The hair was longer, the eyes a shade brighter, the almost ever-present smile and the accent. As if Edward Elric had grown up without a traumatic past. As Edward Elric should have grown up to be.

"The mechanic says it should be roughly six weeks, less if I adapt better than he expects and up to eight if the connections aren't as compatible as he thinks, Sir." Von Hohenheim's voice spoke clearly and Roy looked at the information the young man had given him. This automail mechanic, Fic, had included a detailed description of the procedure and recuperation requirements. Even though it was a just a changeover, von Hohenheim would be confined to bed for two weeks and then require a walking aid for some time after it. Light duties after six weeks and up to three months to be fully integrated.

"You really wish to go through with this?" Roy asked and looked up at him.

"Yes, Sir. I realise it is probably inconvenient as I have only just enlisted." Von Hohenheim apologised and Roy waved a negligent hand.

"If it will ensure that you will always be in good condition in the future, it is wiser to have it taken care of now." He paused slightly. "You do realise that although you are a member of the military now, your injuries were sustained before you joined and that we can not recompense you for this."

"I know, Sir. Fic and I have worked out an agreement and it is all covered." Von Hohenheim had expected that. The price was high but he had agreed to help Fic at the shop during his free time and they had worked out an arrangement to cover the remaining costs.

Another difference. Battles over expenses had been a regular occurrence in his office. To have a discussion over money lasting less than a minute was something Roy had never imagined happening.

Roy had not slept well this week. His mind had been dragging every single image of Edward Elric up and parading it before his eye. Golden eyes had glared, stared, laughed and cried through his nights. The voice had rampaged in accusations, insults, determined promises and wry understanding across his room.

Edward looked at the General. There were shadows around his eye and a heaviness to his manner that he didn't recall seeing when he had first met him. He had barely seen the man since he had come here. Twice he had walked through the office with barely a glance towards him. And that single moment he had been watching them leave that first day. Occasionally he had heard the deep voice as the General had spoken on the phone or to one of the others. That disconcerting gaze he had had when Edward had first seen him was gone and there was a blankness when that single eye looked at him.

Roy scanned the papers again. There was no reason for him to refuse the request. And it would keep the young man out of the office for the next weeks. He might even be able to sleep. And Alphonse was due back next week. Roy was not looking forward to that.

"Very well, Major. I will approve this. When were you wanting to do this?"

"Day after tomorrow, Sir. Fic says the weekend suits him better and I can move what I need to his place tomorrow." Fic had a small two bed operating/recovery clinic behind his shop and Edward would be staying there for the first two weeks before he would be able to return to his dorm.

The phone rang and Mustang picked it up.

"Mustang."

Edward looked around the office and the bookcases made his fingers itch. Maybe one day he could have a closer look. When Fuery had shown him where the libraries were, he had smiled. When he had gone inside, he had been impressed. By the time he reached the first shelf he was lost. That first day he had done nothing but walk the shelves, running his fingers lightly over the bound spines, scanning the titles, mentally marking positions, inhaling the smell of manuscript that he had always loved. He had been most disappointed when they had told him to leave at closing time and he had been back the next day.

Automail first and he had researched it. Several other books had pulled at him for future reference and he had noted their titles and places. When he was back on his feet again, he intended to spend much of his recovery time in those libraries. It was hard to remember that he didn't have to hurry, that he had all the time he needed. That there were no deadlines anymore. Studying and research had always had time constraints, which he had both hated and been grateful for. Without them, he knew he would keep going until someone, usually his father, would stop him. He had lived with restrictions for so long, physically and mentally, that he viewed them with a friendly enmity.

"Von Hohenheim?" The General's voice was smooth as he blinked back into awareness of his surroundings.

"Sorry Sir." Edward stood straighter and looked at the man behind the desk. Mustang stood up and began to walk around.

"You will keep us updated on your progress, Major and if there are any concerns or problems I expect you to inform us straightaway."

"Yes, Sir. Sergeant Major Fuery has offered to take care of all that."

"Good. I hope it all goes well for you Major." Mustang said in a blank voice and Edward saluted him.

"Thank you Sir."

Mustang straightened his jacket as they began to walk towards the door. Edward opened the door and turned again towards the General, bowing his head slightly. The silver glint speeding towards where his head had just been, caught at the corner of his eye and was now heading directly at the blue jacketed chest of the General.

Edward didn't hear the calling voices as he moved, putting himself back in front of the General, his gloved left hand shooting up to catch the object with the hard sound of metal against flesh. His hand shifted backwards to absorb the impact and then he snapped his wrist hard and fast and the metal went spinning back to strike the thrower. He turned his head to see if he had hit his target and saw a blonde-haired blue-eyed young woman clutching her right upper arm. The clatter of metal hitting the floor had his eyes looking down and seeing a wrench lying at her feet.

Hawkeye let her breath out and stared at von Hohenheim. She had never seen anyone react so fast. He hadn't even been fully sighted as he had returned that throw. She saw the golden eyes flicker. Old hate and pain flared briefly before he blinked and his face became apologetic but he didn't move from his protective stance in front of the General.

The young woman kept staring at him and Edward began to frown. The office seemed strangely frozen and he didn't understand why she had thrown that wrench. Had she been aiming at him or the General? He hadn't thought twice when he had seen it coming at them, not even sparing the time to identify the object once he had stopped it. Reflexes he had developed over years had kicked in and he thrown it back, aiming to disable. He hadn't expected to see a young female there.

The gloved hand that landed on his left shoulder startled him and he turned slightly to see the General. He stepped aside as the pressure at his shoulder increased briefly before the hand was gone.

"Miss Rockbell," the smooth voice said with a calm manner. "We weren't expecting to see you today."

The blue eyes met the dark eye and she shook slightly, swallowing hard before she took in a deep breath. She tried to avoid looking at the familiar blond young man who was beginning to look very confused. She tried, but she just couldn't make any words appear. Mustang frowned and gave Hawkeye a quick glance. She nodded.

"Von Hohenheim, why don't we go to the range? As you will be unable to practise for a while, I'm sure you'd like a last try."

"Yes, Sir." He said, his eyes flickering from her to the young woman and back again. He straightened his jacket and began to walk forward as Hawkeye came around her desk. He stopped and stood beside the General and bowed his head slightly.

"My apologies, Fraulein." He said quietly, a sincere regret in his voice. She stared at him and he bowed his head again. There was a loud crack as her hand came up and smacked across his face. He took a step back and his eyes narrowed as he stared at her. Understanding flared in his eyes but his jaw squared and his left hand fisted.

"Winry!" Hawkeye called but the blue eyes stayed fixed on Edward. The handprint began to appear, a red stain across his cheek.

"I am not your Edward." The accented voice was expressionless and the golden eyes went blank. He saw her face go white. "I comprehend your distress at this time, and realise that it is painful and upsetting, but throw things or hit me again and I will have no sympathy or hesitation in retaliating."

"Major, that is unnecessary." Hawkeye stated coldly.

"I think not, Lieutenant-Colonel. Since I have been here, I have always been treated with courtesy and politeness despite the resemblance, despite the discomfort I know my appearance still causes at times. But I have never been attacked without provocation, and have such an attack also threaten the safety of my commanding officer." Von Hohenheim's voice was as cold as hers and the golden eyes were colder still.

"Havoc, take the Major to the range. Hawkeye, escort Miss Rockbell into my office. Fuery, ring General Paull's office and tell him I have been delayed and will be there later." Mustang said concisely and people began to move. Von Hohenheim kept his face blank as he saluted and then limped easily from the office with Havoc at his side. He did not look back.

Hawkeye placed an arm around Winry's shoulders and led her into Mustang's office. She sat her down on the couch and got her a drink of water before sitting beside her.

"Let's have a look at your arm, Winry." Hawkeye said gently. Winry was shaking and Riza kept talking to give her time. She eased the loose shirt off her shoulder and found a large bruise beginning to form. "We weren't expecting you until next week. I hope the train wasn't too delayed this time. I hear they're laying a new line to the south for an express service. That will make the trip a lot quicker. We'll give Schieska a ring later and maybe go for coffee after..."

"Schieska said…she said it wasn't him." Winry's voice was small. "She said it wasn't him and I didn't believe her. I had to come and see." She took a breath. "It's not him, is it?"

"No, it's not him."

"He'd never speak like that, he'd never look at me like that, it's not him." Winry said and her voice cracked slightly.

When she had received Schieska's letter she had caught the first train, barely waiting to pack a case. She had tried to call Schieska but hadn't been able to catch her before the train had arrived. Her thoughts had gone round in circles. Schieska could be wrong, it could be him. After all this time, it would be easy to not recognise him. He would've changed, grown up. It could be him. Schieska had only seen him at lunch, she hadn't grown up with him, she hadn't spent most of her life with him. Winry had known just about everything there was to know about Edward Elric. She would know if it was him or not.

She had walked into the office just as the door to the inner office had opened and she had seen a young man with golden eyes and hair. Her mind had short circuited and the wrench she always had in her back pocket had been in her hand and then airborne before she had blinked. She had mentally cursed that reflex the second she realised what she had done and even more so as he had bowed his head and the General became the unintended target. When the blond had stopped it, she had felt relief that became shock as the wrench had been whipped back at her. Her upper arm had gone numb from the force of the blow.

The golden eyes had not known her. He hadn't recognised her. And she didn't know. She had thought she would know as soon as she saw him if it was him or not. But she couldn't tell.

"He looks so much like him." Winry said slowly.

"I know," Hawkeye said. "But he's not Edward."

"He limped. Edward never limped." Winry said as she began to rock back and forward. "Edward... never ...limped." The blue eyes overflowed and Winry ignored the tears as she kept rocking. Hawkeye pulled her head down to her shoulder, leaning back on the couch. The tears kept falling silently.

Hawkeye looked up and saw Roy watching.

* * *

Havoc walked beside the silent young man. The red print on his face had to be stinging like crazy, Havoc thought. He knew what it was like to be slapped and it hurt for quite some time afterwards. Here was his opportunity to ask questions and find out more about von Hohenheim and he found he couldn't ask. There was an uncomfortable stiffness about him.

"That was a nice throw." Havoc said without thinking and then rolled his eyes at his stupidity.

"I shouldn't have done that." He said in a low voice.

"Probably not, but you didn't have much time to think about it and you only winged her." Havoc found himself trying to ease the guilt he could hear in that accented voice.

"But I should've looked first." He said and he stopped walking. "I should've known there'd be no threat in the office."

Havoc stopped also and turned to face him. The red handprint almost glowed on his pale face. The eyes were guilty and Havoc could see the blame in his expressive face. His left hand was still fisted, even the right hand was clenched as tight as he could make it.

"Von Hohenheim, you don't have to blame yourself here. You didn't know who she was and you did stop it from hitting the Chief."

"But I should have looked before I threw it back." Edward frowned. "To have thrown without looking first was wrong."

"You hit her arm, you didn't break anything or do any serious damage."

Von Hohenheim gave a short abrupt laugh and looked worse. "Major, the Fraulein won't be able to use her arm for a few days. I hit her upper arm and the muscles will be bruised and too painful for her to be able to move it much at all."

"You've done this before." Havoc stated as he heard the certainty in the guilty voice. The younger man looked away for a moment before meeting Havoc's eyes.

"When I was growing up, some of the other kids knew about… my leg and that I couldn't run, so they found that throwing things allowed them to remain at a safe distance, especially if an adult came past. Any marks were put down to my being clumsy. They couldn't get blamed and I couldn't escape." The hate that had flared earlier was there again in his eyes and voice as was the hurt. Havoc stared as von Hohenheim kept talking.

"I learnt to catch and return whatever they threw. I always aimed for the throwing arm, it stopped them from attacking me for a while. It took a long time…" _six months _"…before I could be certain of catching and returning. It took a bit longer…" _another three months _"…to be sure that I would always hit the throwing arm. Then it became a reflex action and they stopped."_Because we moved again._

"Why did they keep on going? That seems a bit stupid of them." Havoc asked.

"They thought it was fun at first. They would deliberately throw out of my reach or throw objects that were sharp or soft. I learnt how to judge trajectory and speed. I had to, without it I couldn't get into position to catch it. The wilder they threw, the more I learnt. Once I got skilled at hitting them, that's when they began to stop."_Having the knife you'd thrown at the crippled kid suddenly reappear in your arm was guaranteed to make you think twice._

"I'm sorry."

Von Hohenheim frowned at him. "Why? It's all in the past now and you can't change what has happened. You have to go forward." There was acceptance in the voice and the eyes began to clear.

Havoc smiled slightly. If the accent hadn't been there, he could have imagined it to be the Boss in front of him saying those words.

"Major?" Von Hohenheim's voice was tentative and Havoc looked at him.

"Call me Havoc, Major. Otherwise we'll get ourselves confused."

"Okay, Maj...Havoc. Umm, who was that young woman?"

"That was Miss Rockbell, Winry Rockbell. Actually she's an automail mechanic. We've known her for a long time. She's a good friend of Schieska. I believe you know her?" Havoc asked as he watched the golden eyes for any signs of recognition.

"Yes, I've met Schieska a couple of times at lunch." Edward frowned in thought and he sighed. "She was the other Edward's mechanic." He said and Havoc caught a weariness behind the words.

"Yes." He confirmed simply.

" I know I shouldn't get upset or resent the fact that I look like someone I'm not and that you all knew so well, but it is hard not to when I get hit by complete strangers." Von Hohenheim let out a little bit of his frustration and the weariness was more noticeable.

"Winry has always been a ...demonstrative person." Havoc remarked with a grin.

"I wish she'd demonstrate it somewhere else." Von Hohenheim said bluntly.

"The resemblance that you can't control is always going to be a shock when people who knew the …other Edward see you for the first time." Havoc pointed out. "It's not something that can be avoided. It will take time. Hell, it's been a week and it still freaks me out occasionally." Havoc looked at him and spoke honestly. Von Hohenheim responded best to honesty he noticed.

"I can understand that, Havoc. What I can't understand is why. Why does it bother people so much that I resemble someone who died years ago?"

Havoc stared at him. "How do you know that?"

"I don't. All I know is that I look like him, he was an alchemist and he had automail. No-one actually speaks about him. It just strikes me that everyone worries too much over my likeness to him."

Havoc took a deep breath. "Edward Elric disappeared five years ago. We never knew, we still don't know, if he died or not. That's why people think you could be him."

"That's ridiculous! Five years ago we moved to Munich." Von Hohenheim was frowning with his disbelief.

"I'm not saying we believe it, von Hohenheim. I'm saying this is why your appearance gets the attention you don't like. Not knowing what happened to him makes it harder to give up the hope that he's out there somewhere."

Edward sighed. He understood what the Major meant. Hope kept you seeing ghosts everywhere sometimes. He had done it after the accident. He smiled ruefully. He could be a ghost for them, until they realised that he wasn't the ghost they wanted.

* * *

Roy Mustang watched as Hawkeye kept holding Winry. Von Hohenheim had protected him. Edward would have done the same, he hoped, but he would have clapped, not caught and he wouldn't have retaliated so fast either. And he would have looked first.

Roy frowned. Von Hohenheim had been colder than he had ever known Edward Elric to get. The certain promise of his words to Winry had been strange to hear coming from that face. The accent had made the words incisive and sharp. No-one had doubted he had meant every word.

Where had the golden-eyed innocent disappeared to, Roy wondered. That had been no innocent standing there.

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you for being patient with me and for all the wonderful comments and reviews. I like writing this (I like writing them all…lol), but it's always good to know you enjoy them too.

Thank you all so very much.

silken :)


	5. I Am Not A Shadow

**To Remember**

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor ever will, Fullmetal Alchemist or the characters within.

* * *

**Chapter 5: ****"I am not a shadow."**

Havoc watched as von Hohenheim shot round after round into the targets. He leant against the back wall and now believed what Hawkeye had told them. Von Hohenheim was a very good shot. And he was using this practise as a way to get rid of the last of his tension. Havoc saw the young man's shoulders loosen and his smile became easier and more natural. He hit the usual targets and then he started playing around, perforating the targets in patterns.

Havoc's eyebrows rose as he 'drew' a basic alchemy circle. Havoc had never seen Hawkeye play around with her shooting like he did. She always concentrated solely on hitting the target in the same spot every single time. Von Hohenheim did that as well, but not with the same intensity of purpose. Unlike Hawkeye, von Hohenheim had not learnt to shoot to protect others.

It was a much calmer and relaxed young man who finally put his gun in the rack and turned to smile at Havoc.

"I'm going to miss being able to do this."

"It's just for a few months. It won't take as long as you think." Havoc replied as he pushed himself away from the wall.

"Should we go back to the office?" Von Hohenheim asked hesitantly. "Will it be safe now?"

"Safe or not, that's where we have to be." Havoc grinned. "Besides, safe and military service don't usually go together."

Von Hohenheim looked startled and then laughed slightly. "Agreed, but safety becomes proportional the closer to a risk you are."

"That sounds like something out of the manual."

"It is."

"You_ read_ the manual?" Havoc stared at him. The manual, or Basic Methodology and Guidelines to Military Service to give its proper title, was a book given to everyone upon enlistment. It was supposed to contain everything a soldier would or should ever know about the military. It had survival techniques and matters of protocol. It had ways to address superior officers and the Rules of Conduct. It was updated every five years and made a good doorstop, according to Breda. Very few people actually read it.

"Uh, yes." Von Hohenheim replied warily. "Wasn't I supposed to?"

Havoc pressed his lips together hard. "Just don't tell anyone else." He managed to say once he had gotten over his urge to laugh.

The golden eyes narrowed as von Hohenheim studied Havoc and then he laughed. "I won't."

Havoc shook his head at him. "No-one will believe you anyway. No-one reads it. Except maybe Falman." He added thoughtfully.

"Falman reads a lot." Von Hohenheim said casually as they began to leave the range.

"Yes. If you ever want to know something, you always ask him first."

"I noticed that. I like him." He paused and tilted his head to one side. "Um, Havoc?"

"Yes?"

"Is there somewhere I can get an icepack? My cheek's a bit sore." He said with a deprecating manner.

Havoc began laughing.

* * *

Winry's tears took a long time to stop. She shook in Hawkeye's arms as she cried silently. The complete lack of recognition in those familiar eyes kept appearing and set off more tears. And his voice. That accent, that coldness. Edward had never sounded anything like that, not to her, never to her.

He had limped. Edward had never limped. She had made sure of that. Her automail would never have made him limp. Schieska hadn't said anything about him having automail. Automail wouldn't give him a limp anyway, not good automail and he hadn't shown any signs of feeling the pain of badly connected or damaged automail.

And his hair had been longer, pulled back in a tail and not a braid. He looked just as she had always imagined Edward would have grown up to look like. She had always hoped he would return to them, to her. Al had been returned and Edward had been the price paid. She refused to believe that. Edward was alive, somewhere, anywhere and he would come back.

She sniffed and found a large white hanky being pressed into her hand. She scrubbed at her eyes and blew her nose before taking a shaky breath. She rubbed at her eyes again and straightened up slightly.

"Take your time, Winry," Hawkeye said in her calm manner. She had kept her arms around her all this time. She had sent the General out with a firm head movement and he had closed the door, giving them privacy as Winry had kept on crying. The young woman still shook occasionally and her face was blotchy.

"I'm sorry." Winry apologised as she saw the large wet patch on Riza's jacket.

"It's okay. I have another."

"It's just that… it's just…" Winry hiccupped on a small sob. "After all this time, I just want it to be him."

"I think we all wish for that," Hawkeye said gently.

"How can you work with him?"

"Because he only looks like Edward." Hawkeye replied as she met the watery blue eyes.

"He certainly didn't act like Ed would've." Winry mumbled through another sniff and rough eye wipe.

"No, he doesn't. He's very different."

"Yes." Winry sat up straight and took a deep breath. "So who is he, if he's not Edward?" She tried to be firm but her voice wavered slightly on his name.

"We don't know much about him." Hawkeye began as she watched Winry wipe her eyes again and settle back into the couch. "I don't know how much Schieska told you, but we haven't been able to discover much about where he's from or anything else."

"Couldn't you just ask him?" Winry asked, frowning slightly as she curled her legs up, trying to control the faint shaking she still felt.

"You can't always be that blunt, Winry. Much as I'd like to at times." Hawkeye gave her a brief smile before continuing. "He's an alchemist, he can shoot, he can do paperwork efficiently and quickly, he's quiet, he's from somewhere we've never heard of and he rarely speaks about himself."

"Apart from the alchemy, he's not like…Edward at all." Winry noted and Hawkeye wasn't sure if it was disappointment or relief she could hear in her voice. Hawkeye pursed her lips up and thought for a moment before she decided to speak again.

"Winry, he has prosthetics."

Winry's eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. "Prosthetics? Automail?" She whispered in shock.

"Not automail." Hawkeye shook her head. "We've not seen it, but it's apparently different to normal prostheses. That's why he limps."

"His left leg." Winry let her breath out shakily and then her eyes narrowed. "But you said 'prosthetics'. He has more than one?"

"His right arm."

Winry went so white Hawkeye though she would faint. The young woman swayed back against the couch and then reached forward with her left hand to grab at Hawkeye's hands. "And you _still _think it's _not_ him? How can you believe that? How does he do his alchemy? Does he need circles?"

"He doesn't, but…"

"It _has_ to be _him_!" Winry said emphatically. She held onto the other woman's hands. "Ed's the only one left who could do that. It has to be him, Hawkeye." Winry gripped tighter with each word.

"Winry, he says those prosthetics were made by his father and he's had them for the last ten years."

"But…but that's not possible. It's just not possible. _I _made his first ever set ten years ago. His dad couldn't have... damn it… Ed's only been gone five years! This is all wrong!" Winry let go of Hawkeye's hands and stood up. She began to pace around the room. "He hated his dad! He wasn't even around ten years ago! I don't understand any of this!"

Hawkeye watched her come to a stop in the middle of the room. Winry turned her head and looked at Hawkeye, her eyes filled with trepidation. "How is Al going to handle this?"

* * *

Roy Mustang had never been one to believe in premonitions or feelings other than those clearly defined within the parameters of the five senses. Hunches and instincts were tools to be used, but never trusted on their own. He always had to put in place a fall-back plan, just to be safe, just in case.

All of which made it very hard for him to acknowledge, let alone accept the certainty that had gone through him in that single moment when he had laid his hand on von Hohenheim's shoulder. He had felt the shift of muscles under his hand as the blond had turned slightly, he had seen the startled look in a sidelong glimpse of that face and he had known. For a split second he had completely believed that it was Edward Elric there. His hand had tightened and the young man had moved and the moment had disappeared. He had not allowed himself to react. He had had years to perfect his self-control. It wasn't going to let him down now.

And now he was sitting at Havoc's desk, ostensibly working his way through several files, but his mind was thinking of the one calling himself von Hohenheim. They were too dissimilar in character despite the resemblance. How could he have thought it was Edward Elric standing there? It was just not possible, completely improbable. _But not impossible_. That faint hope he had within him was grabbing onto that feeling and not letting go of it.

The young man was becoming a puzzle and Roy didn't like puzzles. He had to try and figure them out. Puzzles and secrets, he always wanted to know what they were. And Edward von Hohenheim definitely had secrets as well.

He could shoot, he could throw. How had he come by these skills? Why had he needed them? Especially when he had demonstrated an alchemic strength the like of which Roy had never seen before. His rostered days for research had been spent in the library according to Fuery, and he had been studying automail, not alchemy.

The coldness, the absolute lack of emotion in that accented voice. Where had he learnt to close down like that? That innocence that he carried with him had totally disappeared and in its place had been someone cold and unfeeling. Like a shutter falling and another person taking over. Had he learnt to do that to protect himself from being hurt? All his skills were protective. He hadn't taken the offensive until provoked and it had been a reflexive response.

Roy frowned. He wanted to find some answers. He made a note to get Havoc to widen his search. Von Hohenheim was going to be away for several weeks. If they could still find nothing before he returned, then Roy fully intended to ask him directly.

* * *

Hawkeye met Winry's dismayed eyes.

"We don't know yet, Winry." She said without letting any of her anxiety show. "He's due back next week and I'm sure the General will tell him exactly what is going on."

"But what if Al sees _him_ before that?" Winry asked, worrying at her lip. "He's not going to be able to cope with it at all."

"Von Hohenheim won't be here. He's going to be away for the next six weeks."

"Von Hohenheim? That's what you call him?"

"We don't feel comfortable with calling him 'Edward' any more than you would, Winry. But we have to work with him. We can't call him 'Major' all day and they haven't given him a State title yet."

"At least if he's not here, it'll give Al some time to get used to the idea. Although I don't know if he'll ever get used it. I know I'm not. Half of me wants to go out there and see him and compare. But the other half is terrified. What if it's not him? What if it is? How can you even work in the same office with him?" Winry asked in disbelief.

"It's easy if you don't actually look at him." Hawkeye replied dryly and Winry gave her a small smile. "Come and sit back down. We're trying to find out what we can about him, but he's only been here a week, Winry. Maybe when he returns, if we haven't managed to find out much, we'll have to ask him."

"Why is he leaving after just getting here?" Winry asked as she walked back to the couch, rubbing at her right arm. Hawkeye paused a moment until Winry sat down.

"He's going to have automail fitted."

"What?" Winry exclaimed. She winced as she spun on the couch to face Hawkeye.

"Let me see your arm again, Winry." Hawkeye commanded. She had seen the wince and she also saw the awkward stiffness with which she was holding it. Winry slipped her shirt half off and both looked at the large bruise. It was an impressive shade of black.

"I think he hit the muscles. I can barely move it." Winry said clinically as they examined it. "Tell me about him getting automail."

"That's going to hurt for a few days." Hawkeye frowned. He had moved too easily, he had struck so quickly. He had done this before.

"I know." Winry looked up. "Come on Hawkeye, tell me."

"Whatever sort of arm he has was causing him problems when he first came here. Fuery took him to a mechanic and after discussing it, he has decided to replace his prosthetics for automail."

"And he's going to do that in six weeks?"

"Yes. From what I was told, because he's already got prosthetics, he won't need to go through the long rehabilitation period."

"How can that be? If he's getting automail, then his prostheses are probably the strap on ones. He's going to need years to get used to automail."

"His arm is already connected to his nerves, Winry. Apparently it's similar to automail, but its all in one piece into his shoulder somehow." Hawkeye explained.

"That sounds barbaric! The pain would be worse that automail." Winry's eyes were wide. "His whole shoulder joint would have to be reconfigured." She shook her head. "Which mechanic is he going to?"

"Fic, I think Fuery said the man's name was."

"Fic? August Fic?" Winry's jaw dropped. "He's one of the best there is. My old teacher spent some time learning from him."

"I don't know, Winry. They just said his name was Fic."

"I wonder if I ought to go and see him. To find out more about this prosthetic." Winry contemplated as she looked at Hawkeye.

"No. You can't do that. Not only do I believe that this Fic person would not answer your questions, but von Hohenheim would not be pleased either. And there's no telling how he will react to that."

Winry looked at her arm. "He really doesn't act like Ed, does he?" she said after a small pause.

"No, he doesn't."

Winry sighed. "I still wish…" She couldn't finish her sentence as she leant forward to rest her head against Hawkeye's shoulder again.

"We all do."

* * *

Havoc and von Hohenheim entered the office and saw the General still working there. Havoc merely shrugged but von Hohenheim looked startled and curious.

"Taken over your office have they, Chief?" Havoc asked lightly as he sat at Hawkeye's desk and began to open the files there.

"Uh huh." Mustang said casually, catching a quick glimpse of von Hohenheim's eyes widening and the quick look he shot towards the closed door. The red mark was still vivid against the side of his face but the edges were blurred now and he was carrying an icepack. He watched surreptitiously as the blond went to his desk and began to work. Within five minutes he became completely absorbed in the reports he was checking.

Roy read through his files, occasionally looking across to the blond. He was always working, writing in that smooth script Roy had seen on his exam papers, concentrating so much so that when the inner office door opened, he didn't even notice.

The office watched as Winry walked across to stand in front of his desk. Von Hohenheim kept writing, he was completely engrossed and despite the seriousness of the situation, both Havoc and Breda had to bite their lips to stop from smiling. Like Hawkeye, Winry was someone they had never seen anyone actually ignore. Yet von Hohenheim managed it.

"Von Hohenheim!" Hawkeye said sharply and the blond head shot up, the golden eyes blinking and wide, looking around, completely startled.

"Sir?" The accented voice asked before he stopped and stared at the young woman in front of his desk. He put his pen carefully down on his desk before he slowly stood up and they all saw how wary his stance and expression became. Winry noticed he was taller than she was and no matter how hard she tried, she could not see him as anyone else but Ed.

He took a step back as her face wavered slightly, but she shook her head and lifted her head up.

"I apologise for hitting you." Winry said abruptly and his eyes widened.

"My apologies for striking you, Fraulein Rockbell." He bowed his head slightly and his voice was distantly polite. "I regret my actions caused you hurt." But he wasn't apologising for what he had said and they all knew it.

"It was uncalled for." Winry said, still finding it hard that he had thrown the wrench back at her like that.

Von Hohenheim took a deep breath. "You don't intend to let the matter rest?" He asked bluntly. "Usually once both parties have apologised, the matter is accounted as closed. Is there some facet to this situation that requires further discussion?"

Winry blinked at him. Ed would never have responded like this. But he just looked so much like him. Winry decided she could meet him on his own ground. She had never backed down either.

"I find it hard to believe you would throw something like that without caring what you were throwing at."

"If I had taken the time to categorise my target, Fraulein, it might have moved and I would have missed." He spoke clinically, his head tilting to one side as if wondering why she would question something that was simply common sense to him. "And I find it hard to care for anyone who would throw something at me so casually." There was a faint echo of his earlier coldness in his voice.

"It was a reflex action. You're talking like it was a personal attack." Winry replied defensively.

"It _was_ a personal attack, Fraulein. Against the Edward I am not. And you put others at risk as well. My response was also a reflex action and I make no further apologies for it, nor will I use it as an excuse." His voice remained polite but the distance was deeper in his eyes.

"Are you saying that I am using it as an excuse?" Winry snapped at him and she leant forward.

"Yes, Fraulein. You seem to think that your reflex actions can be excused, whereas mine can't. Such reasoning is spurious and childish."

"I am not being childish!" She almost shouted at him and von Hohenheim's eyebrows rose.

"And thus my point is proven." He held back a sigh and there was weariness in his voice. "For as long as I can remember I have had to prove myself time and again. You will understand that I am rather tired of it and I will not justify myself further to you. Quite frankly, I find you tiresome."

Winry stared at him, her face paling. The office watched them both. Winry took a step back from the desk, her blue eyes narrowing as her hands fisted at her sides. She couldn't feel the fingers on her right hand but they were fisted as much as she could get them to go. His words echoed in her ears and she resisted the urge to scream at him.

"You are not him." She said in a low voice that mirrored her anger and pain. "You only look like him."

"I know." He met her aching eyes and there was no regret in his face. "You can not make me be anything other than who I am."

"You're not even half the person he is." She said, her voice straining and his eyes flickered slightly at the dislike he sensed in her words. "You're nothing but a shadow." The colour left his face and when Hawkeye placed a hand on Winry's shoulder and the younger woman let her lead her from the room, he remained silent.

Mustang looked at the blond as he took a deep breath and sat down abruptly. He swallowed several times and Mustang saw his hands shaking before he hid them below the desk.

"Von Hohenheim?" Fuery asked carefully. The young man blinked as if just realising that they were all there and turned his head slowly to look at Fuery.

"I am not a shadow." He said in a soft tone. Roy wondered if he had only imagined hearing the pain in that accented voice.

* * *

It was relatively quiet in the small theatre behind Fic's shop. Edward von Hohenheim sat propped against the raised head of the bed, gritting his teeth against the pain as Fic attached the port to his left thigh. Sweat ran down the sides of his face and chest. His left hand was gripping tight to the side of the bed. His right arm was truncated at the upper arm. They had cut most of it away earlier. Fic had strapped his upper thigh down to limit his movement and he was working quickly and efficiently.

"_Never let them see you as weak, Edward." _His dad's voice echoed in his head as he arched back and he could feel his jaws aching as the pain went rolling through him again. Three times before he had gone through this. The first when he was barely eleven and twice since as he grown out of them. Nothing compared to that first surgery. The others after it and this one could never come close to the absolute agony of that first attachment. People always said that while the memory of pain never faded, the actual pain was never remembered clearly. Edward remembered that pain. He knew exactly how it had felt because he had never allowed himself to forget.

"_You are always stronger than you think." _He twisted again as his leg felt as if it had been set alight. Nerves burned all the way up his spine and he struggled to breathe, to not pass out, to make no sound. During the first surgery he had screamed at the beginning but then he had seen his father wince at every sound he made, so he had fought to remain silent for the rest of the procedure. He had nearly bitten through his tongue and his lips had taken nearly two weeks to heal. But he had managed it, and ever since then he had refused to give the pain a voice.

"_The pain is yours to bear, Edward, no-one else can carry it for you."_The loud clicking noise as the port locked onto his flesh resonated through him and he rocked hard into the fresh wave of pain that seared at his very soul. He panted harshly as his vision blurred. Sweat or tears stung his eyes and he rolled his head backwards as he battled to keep from losing himself in the pain.

A damp cloth swiped across his face and he focused on Fic as the man cleaned his face.

"Your leg's done. I'll start on your shoulder in an hour." Fic told him as he rewet the cloth and offered it to Ed.

"Thanks." Edward said hoarsely as he took the cloth and laid it over his forehead before running it around his neck.

"I'll get you some water as well, but don't swallow it, just let your mouth soak it up." Fic looked at the drip bags, calculating the fluid intake. "So far you're doing well, but let's not take any chances."

"'s ok. It's not as painful as the first one." Edward managed to croak. He could feel the deep seated throbbing in his leg and looked down to see the silver port on his thigh. Blood and disinfectant were smeared across it. He could see the ragged scars from the accident above the metal and he watched as Fic ran another cloth over the metal to clean it.

"That doesn't surprise me. Your father did a remarkable job. He was very thorough in the way he worked the prosthetic into your bones and muscles. It's not easy to keep the strength needed to hold yourself upright balanced with the ability to be able to walk normally." Fic frowned. "I might just bandage over this as an added reassurance."

"Why?"

"Some people get feverish and restless and can knock the port about a bit. Even though it's securely attached, patients still feel nervous about it. People tend to feel more secure if the bandages are there. They know the port's not going to just fall off. Besides, by the end of the month the nerves should have grown the necessary inch to have locked themselves into their correct places."

"And then they'll thicken?" Edward tried to concentrate on Fic's words as the man wove the bandage around the port and his thigh.

"Yes." Fic replied, lifting the stump carefully and taking note of any red marks that spotted the white linen. "Nerves are strange things. They don't grow fast and sometimes they'll stop for no apparent reason. By giving them a stopping point, they tend to thicken rather than try to reach for muscles that just aren't there any more."

Edward didn't hide the relief that went across his face as Fic put his leg back down and he could feel himself shaking. Fic held up the glass with a straw and Edward filled his mouth with the cool water. He could feel it disappearing as it seeped directly into his dry mouth. There was nothing left for him to swallow even if he had wanted to. He waited a few minutes and then did the same again.

He lay there and watched Fic move around, removing the debris and dirty instruments before getting the new shoulder port and setting out a new set of clean tools. Edward drifted slightly, floating above the pulsing pain of his leg.

"Okay Ed, let's get that shirt off and get your shoulder ready." Fic said, his voice breaking through his daze and bringing him right back into the pain. Edward blinked before straightening up so Fic could help him pull his shirt off. The scars around his shoulder always seemed worse than the ones on his leg to him, but Fic had never shown any signs of finding them anything out of the ordinary. And he waited for the inevitable question as his shirt slipped from his left side but again Fic seemed completely engrossed in his shoulder. Edward closed his eyes briefly as Fic began to remove the remains of his prosthetic.

"_Never be ashamed of your scars, Edward. It wasn't your fault."_

* * *

Roy Mustang was in his office staring out his window. Sunday and he was here instead of being at home. He was looking over the wide boulevard that led to Central Headquarters and seeing nothing but the golden eyes of von Hohenheim.

"_I am not a shadow." _

"_Only a ghost?" Roy had found himself saying as Fuery had been unable to speak when Edward had looked at him. The golden eyes had swung to meet the General's dark one and they had stared at each other._

"_I didn't want to be a ghost, Sir." They were both recalling the comment Edward had made a week ago._

"_What we want is not always what we get."_

"_What we get is not always what we deserve…Sir." There was pain under the cool words and Roy's eye flickered in recognition._

Did ghosts feel pain, he wondered. He knew that right now, von Hohenheim was having the automail fitted. How was he coping with that? Was he being like Edward Elric had been, and suffering in silence? It was hard to imagine him writhing and screaming in pain, but did von Hohenheim have enough reasons to hold himself mute?

Roy's lips pursed as he let his breath out. He probably did. Edward von Hohenheim was hiding painful things. It was in his eyes and his voice at times. Whatever the accident had been that had caused him to lose his limbs was probably the most painful thing of all. It had dictated his life and character ever since. Havoc had told them what von Hohenheim had told him about growing up as an easy target for bullies. Another reason to disbelieve that this was Edward Elric.

And yet he still recalled that single moment when he had been convinced it was Ed there.

"We don't always get what we want," he said to his reflection. "What then did I do to deserve this?"

* * *

Fuery pushed the mashed potato across his tray and let it sit in the coagulating gravy. Von Hohenheim was undergoing surgery and he was sitting in the mess, worrying and clock watching. He was going to ring Fic's shop as soon as he knew the procedure was finished.

"Cheer up Kain. He'll be fine." Havoc said as he sat down beside him.

"I wanted to go with him, but he said he didn't want anyone there." Fuery said with a sigh.

"I don't know as I'd want anyone there either." Havoc replied as he surveyed Fuery's tray. "I didn't think you could do that to vegetables without actually regurgitating them." He commented as he looked at the mangled pile of what had once been carrot and cauliflower.

Fuery pushed his tray away with a small snort and put his elbows on the table, resting his chin in his hands. "It's so strange the way he acts sometimes." He said thoughtfully. "All week he's been such fun to be with and watching him as he discovered everything was so fascinating. But the other day, he was so cold and closed off. It was like he was a different person."

"He did have a reason for it."

"I know, and I don't blame him. But afterwards, I couldn't help him. I couldn't answer him."

"I don't think any of us could, Fuery."

"The General did."

"The Chief always has an answer."

Fuery paused and his head lowered. His voice was slightly muffled.

"I know he's not our Ed, so why do I feel like I let him down?"

"He's your friend, Kain."

"I don't think I've been a good one, Jean." Fuery's head dropped lower. "I keep looking for the old Edward, I keep hoping he'll tell me something of his past."

"We're all doing that." Havoc said slowly and he looked at the smaller man. "But you're the one he turns to first. You might think you've been a bad friend, but I'm betting he doesn't."

* * *

Edward von Hohenheim was sleeping as Fic dropped heavily into his chair in the next room. The young man had both ports attached now. He hadn't had anyone go through that and not scream themselves hoarse before. It said much for how used he was to pain and not just physical pain either. He hadn't missed the occasional self-conscious look Ed had given him as his scars had been revealed. He would wager that very few people had ever seen the full extent of Ed's scars.

Fic had seen worse scars and he knew how vulnerable you could feel when you had an almost complete stranger looking at them. It had been a long time since he had had his leg attached, but you never forgot the twinge of embarrassment at having someone see it for the first time.

The phone rang and Fic heaved himself out of his chair to go to his workshop and answer it.

"Fic's Automail."

"_Uh, Fic, It's Fuery, Kain Fuery, Edward von Hohenheim's friend?"_

"Ahh, yes, I remember you. Ed said you'd probably ring."

"_I was wondering how it all went. Is he… is he okay?"_

"He's sleeping now, Kain, but he's fine. It went well."

"_That's… that's good to hear. Thank you."_

"You can probably visit him in a couple of days. He should be more aware by then."

"_I will. Um, tell him I called and I'll be there the day after tomorrow." _Fic almost smiled at the nervousness he could hear.

"Certainly. Don't worry, I'll take good care of him."

"_Thank you."_

Fic sat back down and smiled. The young man had sounded as nervous as he remembered Ed had been when he had first met him. The phone rang again and he rolled his eyes as he pushed himself back onto his feet again. All he wanted was to relax for a moment.

"Fic's Automail."

"_I'm inquiring about the status of Edward von Hohenheim." _There was no nervousness in the smooth voice he heard. _"This is General Mustang."_

* * *

The whole office watched as Fuery left early on Tuesday to go and visit von Hohenheim. He had rung yesterday and this morning and Fic had told him that Ed had developed a fever but still to come around. Everyone had sent messages, all variants of 'get well soon'. Even the General had added a stilted message.

It was surprising how often their eyes had gone to von Hohenheim's empty chair these last two days. Not hearing the accented voice, not seeing that resemblance there any more unsettled them. He had appeared so suddenly, for so short a time and then vanished again. It was as if he had indeed been a ghost. A shadow.

"…and I was thinking of going with him next time." Havoc was saying to Hawkeye when running footsteps were heard. They all turned to the door and a teenager with long dirty blond hair and hazel eyes came barreling into the office.

"Is it true?" He demanded in a breathless voice as he skidded to a halt and looked around at them all.

"Al…" Hawkeye began to stand up.

"_Is it true?" _He demanded again and looked to see the General appear in his doorway.

"Is what true?" He asked as he watched Al walk towards him. He saw Winry appear in the outer door.

"Is there really someone who looks my brother here?"

"Yes, it's true."

Al met the dark eye and clenched his fists hard.

"Is he my brother?"

* * *

Kain Fuery looked at Edward von Hohenheim as he lay there, his head shifting restlessly from side to side.

"It's only a light fever, it'll be gone by tomorrow." Fic said from the doorway as he watched the be-spectacled young man sit beside his friend. He obviously hasn't been around many sick people, Fic thought as he pointed out a damp cloth and small basin before leaving the room.

Fuery's first attempts were very tentative but he slowly gained confidence, especially as von Hohenheim seemed to calm as the cloth slowly went across his forehead. Fuery could see the bandaged shoulder and the glint of steel beneath it.

Edward began muttering in a strange language. Fuery paused as he tried to make out the words but he had never heard anything like it before. Von Hohenheim shifted and tried to turn over, getting caught in the sheet, a frown on his face and his muttering increased as he rolled back. Fuery saw sweat bloom across his forehead and reached over with the cloth. He froze half way as his eyes fell on von Hohenheim's chest. The sheet had twisted in his attempt and slipped to reveal the blond's left side.

On his chest was a mark even Fuery could have drawn with his eyes closed.

The Flamel.

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you so much for all the comments and reviews…I really do appreciate you taking the time to do that…Thank you so much for enjoying this one…

silken :)


	6. I Want To See Him

**To Remember**

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor ever will, Fullmetal Alchemist or the characters within.

* * *

**Chapter 6: "I want to see him."**

"Come into my office, Al," Roy said as he stared at the youth. "We can discuss it there."

He watched as Al began to walk towards him and turned to re-renter his office, letting him go past before he shut the door. Al turned to face him.

"Well, is he my brother?" he asked again.

"No." Roy said as he walked to the couch rather than his desk. "He looks like Edward, but he doesn't behave like him."

"I want to see him." Al demanded. He wasn't going to believe anyone without seeing it for himself.

"That's not possible at the moment." Roy sighed, ignoring the glowering look and waved Al over. "How much did Winry tell you about him?" He asked as the teen came over and sat on the other couch.

"That he looks like Ed, that's he's missing the same limbs and that he can do alchemy like Ed does." Al recited the points off impatiently.

"And did she mention that he didn't have automail and that he can shoot, that he is from somewhere so far away, we've never heard of it? Did she tell you that his father made his prosthetics ten years ago?"

Al frowned and shook his head from side to side slowly. "I don't think so." He stopped moving and his eyes dropped slightly. "She might have done," he said. "I didn't really listen after the first bit."

Roy nearly smiled at him. "I can understand that. But it's those points that make him different. As well as a few other things he does. Believe me, everyone has been watching him and looking for any signs that he is your brother."

"You could have missed something. You don't know him like I do."

"Yes, that's true. But Al, you only know him from when you were children, and in scattered memories after that." Roy pointed out. Al did not remember most of his four years in the armour. Some things had come back to him, but there were still large gaps. They had told him all they could, but there was a lot they didn't know. Only Ed was ever going to be able fill those missing places.

Al frowned. "I still want to see him." He looked at Roy and his voice was as determined as the look in his eyes. "I _have _to know."

"And if he's not?" Roy asked.

"But he might be." Al clung stubbornly to the hope that it was Ed, that it would be his brother. He knew his brother was not dead, only missing. And he knew that one day he would find him. No-one had been able to convince him otherwise. Not that they had tried too hard, because they had their doubts as well. Edward Elric had always seemed indestructible and it was hard to believe he had died. Even as the years passed, it was as incomprehensible now as it had been five years ago.

"I'll ask him." Roy said slowly.

"No. Just tell me where he is and I'll go there." Al stared at him, his jaw firm.

Roy shook his head. "He's not well at the moment."

"All I need is to see him, General. _Please_." Al leant forward, appealing.

"Al." Roy paused and then decided to be blunt. "No. I will ask him and explain, but the decision will be his. This is not easy for him either."

Al frowned at the firmness in the General's reply. He wasn't going to be able to persuade him to change his mind when he spoke like that. And his conscience did twinge a little bit. This guy, if he wasn't Ed, was getting it from all sides and Al would just be another coming at him. But it was hard to feel overly concerned with some stranger's feelings when it could be his brother there. Winry had met him at the train station and wasted no time in letting him know about this look-alike. She had been irritated and almost angry. It was obvious she didn't like the stranger, but he hadn't paid too much attention to her and had headed straight here to find out.

"When can I see him?" He asked not taking his eyes from the General's face.

"I will ask him tomorrow." Roy replied in an even tone.

"Why not today?" Al wanted to know.

"Because he is not well and tomorrow is the earliest I can see him." Roy didn't blink as Al kept staring at him.

"I didn't know he was sick." Al muttered, resentful that it meant he had to wait another day.

"It's a light fever. His mechanic said it should be gone by tomorrow."

"A mechanic?" Al straightened up and glared accusingly at him. "You said he didn't have automail!"

"When he first came here, he didn't. Von Hohenheim had it fitted two days ago."

"_Hohenheim_?" Al threw his hands out and his voice rose. "He has dad's _name_!" He stood up and paced to the desk and back. "How can he _not_ be my brother?"

"Because he remembers losing his limbs in a fire ten years ago and because his father's name was Phillip von Hohenheim, _not_ Hohenheim of Light. And because no matter how much we may want him to be Edward, he isn't." Roy stated and kept his own doubts locked up deep inside. If Al knew part of him believed it was Edward there, then he'd never be able to convince Al otherwise. _Hypocrite_ said the little voice in his mind.

* * *

Kain Fuery sat by von Hohenheim's bed and watched the young man sleep. Edward had settled down again after shifting restlessly and Fuery had straightened the sheets, pulling them up to the broad shoulders. Edward wasn't moving so Fuery had left the damp cloth on the pale forehead, while he stared at the sheeted chest and saw again that mark that lay beneath it.

The Flamel. For so many years he had seen it on the back of that red coat. First Ed and then Al. Seeing it on von Hohenheim had completely stunned him. It hadn't been more than four inches long and looked as if it had been branded into his skin just above the left nipple. Fuery didn't know the last time he had seen so many scars on a single person. From the small white lines to the thicker patches of deadened skin that tracked down from his right shoulder and the patches across his chest. If they had all been caused by the accident that had cost him his limbs, Fuery was now certain that it had been a very bad accident indeed.

The low muttering began again and Fuery listened to the strange words that the blond uttered. He had never heard anything come close to whatever language that was. Fuery put his hand on the cloth to hold it in place as von Hohenheim began to turn his head from side to side again.

His breathing became rougher and his voice harsher as he kept on speaking. Fuery saw the sweat appear and felt the heat from von Hohenheim's skin as he moved the damp cloth over the flushed face. Von Hohenheim began to try to turn over again, this time rolling onto his right side. Fuery saw him freeze completely as his new port began to bear the pressure of his movement. Von Hohenheim opened his eyes and his breath hissed out. The golden eyes were clouded and didn't seem to be focusing on anything.

"Come on von Hohenheim, let's roll you back." Fuery said quietly and put his hand on von Hohenheim's left shoulder and pushed gently. There was no resistance and the golden eyes stared at him as he returned to lying on his back.

"_Al_?" Fuery blinked as von Hohenheim spoke. "_Alfons? Is Dad back yet?_" Fuery didn't understand the words but he was positive von Hohenheim had just said "Alphonse" in that strange language of his.

"Edward?" He asked tentatively, feeling strange as he used the blond's first name. Somehow it felt wrong.

"_Dad'll know what to do, Al. He won't be long, will he?_" von Hohenheim replied and Fuery had no idea of what the blond had just said. He sighed slightly and ran the cloth over the heated face.

"I'm sorry, von Hohenheim, I just don't understand." He said in his quiet manner and he was startled when von Hohenheim's left hand caught at his wrist. The words were more accented than normal and the eyes were very unfocused but Fuery could understand every word.

"Tell Dad I'm sorry, Al."

* * *

Winry sat outside the General's office and waited impatiently. She was having second thoughts at having told Al about von Hohenheim as soon as he had arrived. She didn't think he'd heard half of what she had told him. And he had just taken off to come running straight here.

Winry was still feeling very unsettled by von Hohenheim. It was just so hard to not see Ed there. Even if he was acting like a complete stranger. And not a pleasant one either. Well, not to her, no-one else seemed to have a problem with him.

"How's your arm, Winry?" Hawkeye broke into her thoughts and she looked at her.

"It's better. I can move my fingers again." She held her arm up and showed her. The muscles were still sore and twinged and she was unable to hold anything too heavy or grip too tightly yet. His throw had been very accurate and effective. "I still can't believe he did this to me." She muttered. She didn't see the quick look between Havoc and Hawkeye.

"Von Hohenheim was subjected to bullying because of his leg, Winry. They used to throw things at him." Havoc remarked in a casual voice and her wide blue eyes met his.

"I was not being a bully!" She protested. "Why would anyone pick on someone just because they're missing a leg? That's plain cruel."

"I never said you were." Havoc replied calmly. "And we're talking about kids who don't like it when people are different. They don't understand and they pick on them without caring. Von Hohenheim simply learnt to return what they threw at him. It's a reflex he's developed for his safety."

"It's probably why he works as he does. So people won't focus on what's different, so that he can achieve things that people will look at, rather than look at him." Breda suddenly said and they all stared at him. "You've seen it. All his paperwork and files done and put in the right places by the end of the day. You never have to go looking for anything he does, it's always where it's supposed to be."

Hawkeye and Havoc both nodded. "He doesn't speak much during the day either," Havoc added.

"But when he has to speak, he doesn't hesitate." Hawkeye noted and they all shot a quick glance at Winry, who scowled at them.

"Fine, his character is nothing like Ed's and he's had a hard time growing up." She sighed. "But it doesn't stop the hope. It doesn't stop the wanting to know exactly who he is. To prove it one way or the other."

"You think we feel differently?" Hawkeye asked.

Winry nodded. "Yes, I do. You're protecting him, you're not pushing this."

"Whether he is Ed or not, he is still a person, Winry. You can't just go through his life looking for Edward. What happens afterwards? You toss him aside because he's not who you want him to be?" Hawkeye asked.

"But what if he is?"

"If he is, then taking it slow won't hurt anyone. But he doesn't think he is, Winry. So if it is our Edward there, then there's something wrong with him. And you can't rush that unless you want to risk making whatever it is worse."

"It's not fair." Winry looked at them all, her blue eyes accusing. "We wait and we hope for so long, and he just waltzes in and we still have to wait."

* * *

Von Hohenheim slept without moving. He didn't speak again and the fever seemed to ease. A natural sleep claimed him and his skin cooled. Fuery could see the way he almost relaxed back into the pillows and hear his breathing even out.

Fuery sat there, watching him and wondering what he should do. Who should he tell about that mark, about what he said? Should he tell anyone? He was supposed to be von Hohenheim's friend. How much of a friend would he be if he revealed what he had seen and heard without the blond knowing? But what if he was connected to Ed, what if he _was_ Ed. Then he had to tell someone.

Fuery put his head down. Von Hohenheim or Elric? Which was he? Which one was his friend? It had felt wrong to call him 'Edward' but if he was a friend, it shouldn't have been like that, should it? Fuery's breath caught. Calling him Edward acknowledged that despite all the uncertainty surrounding him, von Hohenheim was not just a shadow, that he was a real person in his own right.

He suddenly wished there was something physically different about von Hohenheim, something large and noticeable, a scar like the General's, or even just a mole on his nose. It would make life a whole lot easier. Then he wouldn't always get the hopeful feeling that it was Edward Elric there, and then he wouldn't feel guilty for always thinking that.

"The fever's gone now." Fic's low voice came from the door as he surveyed them both. "You're welcome to stay the night if you want."

Fuery frowned, unsure what to do. He looked at von Hohenheim. If the fever was gone, then there was really nothing he could do for him anymore. He could just sit here and watch the man sleep. But there was nothing waiting for him back at the dorm either.

"I'll stay." He looked at the older man. "If you're sure it's okay."

Fic nodded, smiling. "It's perfectly fine. You can have his meal. He won't be eating til tomorrow now, and you can help me change his bandages later if you want." His smile widened as Fuery's expression suddenly changed and he looked as if he might change his mind right there and then and leave instead. Fic laughed. "It was just a suggestion, Mr Fuery."

"Umm, call me Kain… and it's ok, I'd like to help if I can." He looked from Fic back to von Hohenheim. "He's my friend, after all." He added in a quiet voice.

* * *

Edward von Hohenheim woke up the next morning and felt agonisingly sore. His right shoulder was one massive ache and his left thigh was right behind it. He felt light-headed and it was hard to think straight. He'd had a fever and it was gone and he was left feeling weak and fuzzy. He recognised the signs. He wondered how long he'd been out for.

A snuffling noise had him turning his head and seeing Fuery curled up on small cot bed against the wall. He stared at the sleeping man, a small smile on his face. He had expected Fuery to ring, he hadn't expected him to visit and certainly not to stay. His smile widened slightly.

Since the accident, he had had few friends. A loner by circumstance, he had not let it worry him. And it had only been at the University that he had finally made a truly close friend. One who had not cared that he was different, one who hadn't asked for anything in return. He looked at Fuery.

It couldn't be easy for him and yet he was here. Edward liked him. Even knowing that Fuery probably saw the other Edward when he looked at him, it wasn't stopping him from being friendly without patronising him, as Edward had worried about before.

Edward von Hohenheim knew he tended to be a bit too quick to accept people, even when he knew he shouldn't. Even when it had hurt him in the past, but he just couldn't stop himself from doing it. It was habit born from his loneliness. Accept first and then worry himself stupid afterwards.

He sighed and his smile faded slightly. He liked Fuery but the smaller man had other friends as well, and they all had the same problem. Fuery's loyalties would lie with them, he knew that. He accepted that. Being Fuery's friend would put the man in the middle and he didn't want to do that to him.

Edward began to move, rolling to his left to brace himself as his right leg bent at the knee and he pressed down with his foot, trying to push himself upwards. He moved up the pillows and had to bite his lip as the new ports ached, calling him an idiot in all shades of pain. He grunted as he pushed himself up higher, trying to get upright.

An arm around his back startled him and he looked up to meet Fuery's eyes.

"I don't think you're supposed to move yet," was all he said as von Hohenheim took a shaky breath and leant back slightly.

"Probably not, but I never paid much attention to what I was supposed to do." He replied with an equally shaky laugh and Fuery shook his head as he dragged the pillows up behind the blond and von Hohenheim settled back against them. "Thank you."

Fuery looked down and shrugged slightly. "It's nothing. I was here."

"You didn't have to." Edward looked down also and then realised he had no shirt on. His eyes closed briefly and he swallowed hard. He pulled the sheet up as the colour rose in his face. Fuery was still looking down.

"It's hard sometimes," Fuery suddenly said in a low voice. "You look so much like Ed, but you don't behave like he did. Some things are similar, I mean you both help people, you're alchemists and you don't hold back when you have something to say. But you work like he never did, you shoot and he never did, you seem so much _younger_ sometimes than he ever did.

"I've not been a good friend. I kept looking at you and wanting to see the old Ed and it's not fair. On you or me."

"I know that." The accented voice spoke slowly and Kain looked up. "I was thinking that earlier." Golden eyes met his. "I understand if you don't want to be friends." Von Hohenheim kept his voice as controlled as he could but his eyes flickered and Kain saw.

"I do want to be your friend but…"

"But the resemblance makes it hard."

"Yes. I don't want you think that I do only see Ed, I do see _you _as well."

"Then why is there a problem?" Von Hohenheim frowned, holding his relieved smile back as Fuery twisted his fingers together.

"The mark on your chest, and Al." The words rushed out and Edward tensed up, hissing as the ports pulled. "I can't stop thinking about them and I know I shouldn't say anything but I can't help it. If I was a good friend I wouldn't be wanting to tell the others, I wouldn't be trying to make you be Ed returned."

"The mark on my chest?" Edward stared at him, his initial panic receding. Fuery was upset over that mark and not the scars? Had he just ignored them? How could anyone ignore them? "It's a birthmark, Fuery. My dad had it as well. I've always had it."

Fuery's face was pale. "Edward Elric had that shape on his coat, it was his teacher's. He wore it all the time and after he…disappeared, his brother wore it as well." He licked his lips. "No-one else has ever used it."

Von Hohenheim took a breath. "And that's what's got you all worried?" He ran his left hand through his hair. He gave a wry laugh and it broke. "And here I thought the scars were the problem." His hand shook and he gripped the sheet hard to hide it. He took a deep breath as his mind wobbled a bit.

"Von Hohenheim?" Fuery asked as the young man struggled to let his breath out evenly.

"It's ok," he replied with a frown. He took a deep breath again and tried to smile at him. Judging by the wince Fuery couldn't hide, it was not a successful attempt.

"It's not ok. It's my fault. I shouldn't have said anything." Fuery said as he turned away and Edward reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him.

"It's not your fault." Edward swallowed. "People tend to freak out when they see… my scars. I…I never let anyone see them if I can help it." He took another deep breath, closing out the memories, locking them away again.

"I should have thought… but that mark, birthmark, it kinda threw me." Fuery mumbled and Edward shook his head.

"You didn't know. It's not your fault." _"It's not your fault, Edward."_ von Hohenheim took another breath as the words echoed again.

"I won't tell them." Fuery suddenly said and Edward blinked at him.

"Huh?"

"I won't tell them about it. About the flamel or the scars."

"Flamel?" Edward stared at him. "It has a name?"

Fuery scratched the side of his head, perplexed. "Umm, yes. I thought it was an alchemy symbol."

"It is. We always just called it the Crucified Serpent. Nicholas Flamel was a famous alchemist who died centuries ago. None of the symbols were named after him. And this is slightly different because it has the extra marks."

It was Fuery's turn to blink. "No it doesn't. That's exactly how a Flamel looks."

"But the Crucified Serpent doesn't have these wings and the crown." Von Hohenheim smiled and felt himself relaxing. "It's not the same."

"Von Hohenheim, what you have there is what we know as a Flamel, complete with the wings and crown." Fuery stared intently at him and the gold eyes went wide.

"And what meaning does it have?" He asked in a hushed voice, his mind whirling. Were there other different symbols here? He hadn't noticed any in the exam questions. Perhaps it was the rarer ones that differed. He added it to his list of things to do in the Library.

"I don't know, I'm not an alchemist. Ed and Al just said it was their teacher's symbol."

"Al?" von Hohenheim's voice caught.

"Al, yes." Fuery paused. "It sounded like you called for him while you were feverish." And he saw von Hohenheim stiffen up again.

"Al was my best friend," was all he could say.

Kain paused. "Ed's brother is called Al."

They stared at each other.

"I am not him." Edward von Hohenheim stated as firmly as he could.

* * *

Fuery left mid-morning and after he had gone, Edward pulled the sheet down and ran his fingers over his mark. Flamel. How strange to have a name for it. His father had once taken him to see the tombstone of Nicholas Flamel and they had both stared at the engraving that was so similar and yet different to the one they carried on their skin.

"_Alchemy is all but forgotten these days, Edward. These new sciences fail to acknowledge their roots. They forget where they came from." The elder von Hohenheim stared at the stone._

"_Why don't you teach others, Dad?" Edward turned to meet the golden eyes, so like his own._

"_Because only you can do it, my son. There is no-one else left."_

"_If…if he hadn't died…"_

_The long old gold blond hair of his father moved as he looked back at the engravings._

"_No, Edward. Your brother and alchemy just didn't mix."_

"I wish you were here, Dad." He murmured as his fingers lingered on the wings of his birthmark.

"You up for another visitor, Ed?" There was a knock at the door accompanying the words and Edward pulled the sheet up with a puzzled frown. Apart from Kain Fuery, who else would come here?

"Sure, Fic." He replied, loudly enough to be heard through the door and it opened. Only Fic appeared.

"You sure?"

Edward remembered not to shrug. "Yes, but you couldn't get me a shirt first could you?" He asked, thinking one person a day was enough to have looking at him. And he was not sure if he wanted them knowing about his birthmark after what Fuery had told him. Fuery had said he wouldn't tell, but that really wasn't fair to make him keep secrets from his friends.

"Can do." The older man picked up one of the shirts they had placed in the slim cupboard and helped Edward lean forward to thread his left arm into the sleeve. "He can stay for an hour, no more. After that I need to change the dressings again."

"Who is it?" Edward asked as Fic went back to the door.

"General Mustang."

"Why is he here?" Edward asked curiously.

"You can ask him that. I only spoke with him on the phone." Fic waved his hand as he left the room and Edward could hear muted voices through the half-open door. He leant back on the pillows and pulled the shirt closed across his chest, unable to do more than one button up before the General appeared.

"Von Hohenheim." He said as he looked at the pale young man.

"Sir." Edward saluted left-handedly and the General shook his head.

"You don't need to do that." He sat down on the chair beside the bed and studied his subordinate. The long hair was falling out of its tie and his face was drawn with pain. The golden eyes were tired and pain lurked at the back of them. But he still managed to smile, even if it was a shadow of its normal brilliance.

"I didn't think you'd come to visit, Sir." Edward said.

Roy paused. If it hadn't been for Al, he probably wouldn't have come. Or at least not this soon after the surgery. Who was he kidding? If he knew for certain this was Edward Elric he would have been sitting outside the door through the whole procedure. But this wasn't…_is_ that little voice whispered… and he was here only because of Al.

"It's not a social call, I see." The accented voice broke into his musings and he met the level stare of those eyes.

"No it's not." He replied bluntly. "Well not completely. I do want to know how you are progressing, but there is another matter I need to discuss with you."

Von Hohenheim kept his eyes firmly fixed on Roy's single one as he replied. "I'm fine, my fever has gone and Fic will be attaching the arm in five days if all stays good."

"Thank you for the report. Although Fic has already told me all of that." Roy's lips twitched slightly as von Hohenheim suddenly looked disconcerted. "Your progress is as expected and Lieutenant-Colonel Hawkeye has suggested that next week, you could have paperwork delivered. I believe she mentioned you might get bored with nothing constructive to do. Her words not mine."

Von Hohenheim looked at him warily. The General was behaving almost like a normal human being and not as the strictly controlled, almost reclusive individual he knew from the office. Whatever had brought him here, it was nothing to do with paperwork.

"What is the other matter, Sir?" He asked and saw the General sigh before his face went blank.

"The brother of Edward Elric wants to meet you."

* * *

Kain Fuery sat on one of the benches inside the huge compound that was Central Headquarters and looked at the building in front of him. He had left Fic's and gone to his dormitory to change into his uniform. But he wasn't quite able to make it through the doors that led to the office. He had rung earlier and said he would be late getting in. Hawkeye had told him to stay all day, but he had insisted. He was not so sure anymore.

Fuery was not a complicated person. He loved his circuitry and schematics. He was not a loud extrovert. He was more than happy with a book, preferably one filled with flow charts.

He wished he could draw up a flow chart to solve his turmoil. He had a starting point. He liked Edward von Hohenheim and considered the blond to be a friend. He knew something about him that no-one else did. That line drew him down the next level. Two choices. To tell or not to tell. He had chosen not to tell. And under that level is where it got messy. He felt guilty because it meant he was keeping a secret from his other friends. Von Hohenheim had not asked him to keep it secret. But Kain had said he wouldn't say anything, and he couldn't go back on his word.

"Hey Fuery!"

He looked up and saw Havoc coming across to him, the doors swinging shut behind him. He smiled slightly. It probably wasn't as complicated as he had made it out to be. They would respect his decision not to share this with them, given the circumstances. They weren't unreasonable people nor were they unfair. He was just letting his insecurities do his thinking for him.

"Hey Havoc. What's up?"

"You haven't seen Al today have you?"

Fuery stood up and shook his head. "No. Why?"

"He was supposed to be in the office half an hour ago and he hasn't shown up."

Fuery frowned. "Al's never late."

"I know. I'm off to the hotel to see what's keeping him. You want to come too?"

* * *

"He wants to see me?" von Hohenheim repeated and fought the urge to ask the very unnecessary 'why?' in reply.

He knew why. He didn't know if he wanted to or not, though. It was one thing to meet an old childhood friend of your doppelganger, but a brother? What did you say? And given how violently that Rockbell girl had reacted, who knew how the brother would behave.

"Do I have to meet him?" He asked tentatively.

"No." The General shook his head. "I told him the decision was yours."

Roy watched the young man thinking, chewing at his bottom lip as he considered his options. His left hand fiddled at a button on his shirt and he fidgeted slightly.

"I don't know." Von Hohenheim said in a cautious manner. "I hadn't thought about family… I know little about him, and I don't really want to know. But everything just keeps throwing it right in my face at the moment."

Roy smirked slightly at his last words, but von Hohenheim missed both it and the connection and looked across the room still trying to think his way through this. He turned his head suddenly.

"When I'm back at the office, is this… brother going to be there as well?"

"Not daily no, but he does come through regularly."

"So, even if I say no now, I'm still going to have to meet him later." It was a statement but Roy answered it anyway.

"Yes. It is unavoidable. All you have to do is decide when."

Edward frowned. He didn't like making decisions. He preferred to react, he preferred it when someone else made the decisions. Dad had been the one who had done all of that. But this was a bit different. This wasn't a decision about where we're going to be living, what you'll be studying. Whatever he decided impacted on an unknown boy who only wanted his brother. He looked at where his left leg should be. He had a ready excuse if he wanted to wait.

The General's indrawn breath had him looking towards the man but he was looking at the door. Edward turned his head and met the hazel eyes of a red-coated, long haired youth. They stared at each other for a long moment, neither moving.

"Ed." The newcomer whispered.

"And you must be Al." The accented voice was cool and distant.

Roy looked at von Hohenheim. He didn't recall mentioning Al's name. He frowned slightly before he turned back to Al.

"I thought I told you I would ask, Alphonse." His voice was stern and the youth flinched slightly before his eyes flickered briefly to the General and then back to von Hohenheim.

"I know you did, but I couldn't wait."

"Didn't you trust me, Alphonse?"

"I do… It's just... this is…"

"_This_ is not your brother." Von Hohenheim spoke clearly, his eyes never wavering from the turmoil he had just instigated in Al. "I may look like him. But I am not him."

"You can't just say that!" Al protested.

"Yes I can." Von Hohenheim's accent thickened for a brief moment. "I think I would remember what my brother looked like. And you look nothing like him."

"And you look exactly like mine!"

"But it is just looks. I don't know you, I've never seen you before. I said it before, I will say it again. You can not make me be someone I am not. I am not your brother."

Al stared at him, his face white and his eyes filled with his disappointment. His hands fisted at his sides.

"I'm glad you're not my brother," he whispered. "I'd hate to think he could be as unfeeling as you." He turned and left the room, the red coat flaring behind him.

Roy looked at von Hohenheim. His eyes were blank and he was staring at the door Al had just left through, his hand clutching at his shirt over his heart. His lips were parted and he was breathing rather fast.

"My brother died ten years ago. Would he hate me too?" The accented voice sounded lost and Roy looked closely at him. He wasn't sure if von Hohenheim was completely aware of where he was. That blank look was still in his eyes.

"What was your brother's name?" He asked gently.

"William. He was older than me." A small smile tugged at his lips. "Dad always told me that he loved me."

"I'm sure he wouldn't hate you. Your Dad wouldn't lie to you." Roy felt a bit uncomfortable as he spoke but von Hohenheim seemed to be taking his words at face value.

"I wish I could remember him."

Roy frowned and hesitated. "Why can't you remember him?"

"I don't remember anything before the accident." Von Hohenheim turned to face him and there was hurt and guilt in those eyes, and his voice sounded so apologetic. "I can only remember the last ten years."

* * *

"A Cross where a Serpent was crucified" is the description for the original Flamel symbol on the tombstone of Nicholas Flamel. The tombstone is preserved at the Musée de Cluny in Paris. Before that it was in the Church of the Holy Innocents, also in Paris.

Author's Note: Hot weather is not the most conducive for sitting down and writing, and Christmas really screws with your time… smiles…but despite that, or because this is the only room in the house with air-conditioning, I managed to get this one finally updated again…

Thank you to every one for commenting and reviewing and waiting patiently for me… I always know you are there, and I never forget that…

All the best for your New Year, and may you stay safe and healthy…

silken :)


	7. You Want To Know Too

**To Remember**

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor ever will, Fullmetal Alchemist or the characters within.

* * *

**Chapter 7: "You want to know too..."**

_Last Chapter:_

_"I don't remember anything before the accident." Von Hohenheim turned to face him and there was hurt and guilt in those eyes, and his voice sounded so apologetic. "I can only remember the last ten years."_

"I always wonder if not being able to remember is my punishment. If having to rely on what Dad told me, if only having a few damaged photos so I can pretend I know what they looked like is because I did something wrong." Edward von Hohenheim looked back at the empty doorway as if still seeing the youth they called Al standing there. "That boy knows though. He knows what his brother looks like. He _remembers._ He has something he can be certain about."

General Roy Mustang looked at the young man. Pain, and not just from his new ports was clouding his face, and there was something he was hesitant to call envy in that pensive expression. Edward Elric had been a first class guilt machine, Roy knew that. He had seen it and even, carefully, used it on occasion. He could see the guilt in this Edward but it was less accessible. It was layered with regret as if this Edward had found a way to accept and live with his guilt. Elric had carried his guilt, raw and hurting for the four years he had known him. Von Hohenheim had lived with his for the past ten years. Would _his_ Ed have reached this level of acceptance if he hadn't gone missing?

It was still disconcerting to see this face talking so easily about something Ed wouldn't have admitted even after crawling over broken glass. The accent startled him every time he heard it, but as the young man kept talking he found it disappearing from his consciousness and then he would only notice it afterwards when von Hohenheim's emotions got the better of him.

Mustang frowned slightly. "Alphonse Elric has no family left." He spoke slowly and looked at his gloved fingers. He sensed von Hohenheim turn to look at him. "The thought that his brother is alive somewhere is the only certainty he holds. He has us and he has a few close friends, but that's not the same as _family_. We can't take the place of the one person he wants more than anything else."

Von Hohenheim watched the General's thin lips move as he spoke. There was no sense of an impending apology in either his words or manner for the young boy's behaviour but there was a restraint about him. As if he was forcing himself to remain detached and not allowing himself to become involved. Von Hohenheim recognised it as something he did himself. Keeping a distance and trying to be objective when all he wanted was to let go and tell them exactly how much it hurt or how hard it really was. And he was grateful for that restraint and he understood the need for it. Without it, it would be another layer of guilt just waiting for him.

"It's the not knowing that keeps him looking and searching. His brother was the most important person to him and …Ed felt the same about Alphonse. They only had each other and when Ed disappeared, it took Al a long time to…recover. Once he did, finding out what happened to his brother is all he's wanted to do."

Von Hohenheim studied the older man. So many gaps and things left unsaid. He let his breath out. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to hear what had happened to the Edward he looked like. He didn't want to know why the brothers had had no other family. He didn't want to know. _If only I had been placed under a different command_, he thought and then stopped. _It's because I look like this I was placed there. Because they're as wanting to know as that …other Al. Even Fuery said it. And it's not really fair on any of us. Not on them, not on me._ Von Hohenheim sighed before taking a deep breath. He frowned at his fingers as they held onto a shirt button.

"And because I look so much like this other Edward, I should forgive him and the Fraulein Rockbell. And I should continue to ignore the resentment that comes every now and again when you all look at me and wonder. Even if I laid out every memory that I do have, would it even be enough to convince anyone? Would it convince him? There's no logic when you go chasing those ghosts. You can see their faces in every shadow. And no-one ever finds the answers."

"Who do you look for?" Roy spoke without thinking and von Hohenheim stiffened slightly.

"My mother and my brother." The accent was thick in the softened voice. Pained golden eyes suddenly looked up and met his. "You want to know too, just like…just like that brother of his. But you're not asking. None of you are asking. Because you don't want to know the truth? Because you'd prefer to see the ghost? You never stop seeing them. It's been ten years and the shadows are still there. And I don't even remember what they looked like. I have to hope that the ghosts will recognise me." The eyes never wavered and Roy was confounded again by the strength and depth of this Edward.

"We…I have been reluctant to ask you outright for your history. Ever since you appeared you have known of the resemblance. It would have been wrong of me not to have said anything. I was a bit abrupt during our first meeting with my questions but you unsettled us and you still do at times." Roy watched the golden eyes stay steady. "Just because we haven't asked yet, doesn't mean we would never ask. I had thought to wait until you returned to the office. No matter who you look like, you are still someone and to ignore that would be callous and cruel of us. I don't think you would have appreciated it if I had continued questioning you that first day."

The eyes flickered. "No, I wouldn't have liked that. I don't even know if I want to say anything now or leave it for later."

"Somehow I doubt there will ever be a right time for this. I think we are both in agreement that something needs to be said. I don't think I am the only one with questions."

"I don't _want_ to know about him." Von Hohenheim didn't pretend to misunderstand. "But I know I have no choice either. I can't ignore it and hope it will go away. There's no way to avoid it." He let his breath out. "I must say I didn't expect any of this to happen when I came here."

"Why did you come here?" Roy eased back in his chair slightly and saw the tired eyes sharpen before a small smile appeared.

"My dad, before he…he died, he said it was the place I should go. He'd said a few times that we'd come here one day, but it was never really important. Not until the end anyway. He became a bit insistent about it then. After… after he was gone, I came here." The smile had faded and the words slowed and von Hohenheim's fingers were twisted in his shirt.

"Had he been here before?" Roy queried, keeping his voice light.

"I don't know. He never said, but then he never really spoke too much about his past." Von Hohenheim paused briefly. "After the accident we only talked about my past and what I couldn't remember. Dad was never one for speaking much, but he always there when I needed him."

"He sounds like a good man."

"He was. I couldn't imagine not having grown up without him."

Roy pursed his lips. These were the hard moments. When the face he knew so well spoke words _he_ never would have said. This was when it was hardest to believe that Edward Elric had returned. When that little voice of certainty in his mind wavered and struggled to survive.

"What is it, General?" The accented voice asked and he realised he'd been staring at the blond.

"The Elric's father was called Hohenheim. Hohenheim of Light." Roy saw von Hohenheim's eyes go wide. "But he left them when they were very little. The last time he was seen was five years ago, shortly before Ed went missing." Roy took a breath. "These similarities are also why it is hard for us."

"It's not the questions that you fear, it's the answers. In case there are more similarities." Von Hohenheim met the General's dark eye for a moment before he lowered his head, his hand pressed flat over his heart. His fingers tightened. "My father's name was Phillip von Hohenheim. My mother's name was Maria and my brother was named William after our grandfather. He said he had once studied to be a doctor but he never practised it and whenever we moved, he would always get a job teaching. That's how we lived after the accident. Dad taught, I studied and we managed." Roy watched the fingers pull at the thin shirt. "For the last five years we've lived in Munich. Dad taught at the University and I was studying there."

"University?" Roy questioned the unfamiliar word and von Hohenheim looked up at him puzzled for the moment.

"You don't have Universities here?" He asked in return and the General shook his head. "Oh. It's a place of learning. With a sponsor or by passing the entrance test and paying the fees, you can enrol and study the courses they offer."

"Education is a very different system here. Once basic schooling is completed, most young people look for apprenticeships or the military."

"But…then where do your doctors and teachers come from?"

"Most city hospitals have a teaching wing where those who wish to learn go. As for teachers, they learn from existing teachers. Most learning is done on the job so to speak. Even researchers use the apprentice system." Roy paused. "Your father didn't tell you much about here?"

"No. As I said, he just said that we'd come here."

'Did you study alchemy at that University?"

"No. Dad taught me." _Dad was the only one who knew about alchemy._ "I…I had to relearn a lot of what I couldn't remember after the accident."

"You can transmute without using a circle. Did your father teach you that?"

"I don't know. Probably. I could do it after the accident, I guess I learnt that before it. Dad never said. We always just did it that way."

"Your father didn't need circles either?"

Von Hohenheim shook his head. "No. He said it wasn't common, as most people did need to draw circles." Edward saw the General's face twitch and sighed. "The other Edward didn't need circles either, did he?"

"No." The word was soft but Edward tensed anyway.

"Just how much like him am I?" he asked before he could stop himself. The General looked at him and despite wanting to look away, Edward held himself steady.

"You could be his twin for looks. Your name, your alchemy and your missing limbs."

Edward von Hohenheim was silent for a moment. "It's not really much, is it? Everyone is putting so much expectation on just a few coincidences. My name came from my father. He also taught me my alchemy. And missing limbs. That's a polite way to phrase it. And let's not forget that now I will have automail." Edward's hand went to his chest again and began rubbing lightly over his heart. He frowned, wondering whether to mention his birthmark and add that to the list. Kain Fuery already knew about it and although Fuery had told him he wouldn't tell anyone, it wasn't fair to make him keep secrets from his friends.

He looked at the General appraisingly. It had been easy to talk to him. He made no judgements, he had kept his objectivity without seeming unapproachable. He gave no signs that he resented Edward being so similar to the other Edward. Or that the resemblance bothered him in anyway. There was a sense of tight self-control about him. But what he was keeping hidden, Edward couldn't tell. He felt an urge to see if he could break that control and then blinked, wondering where that thought had come from. He nearly snorted. He doubted the man beside him ever let himself lose control.

"It may not seem like much, but with the uncanny resemblance those few points become a lot more significant."

"It's all that other Edward's fault." Von Hohenheim frowned as his fingers clenched on his shirt, and Roy looked at him. The resentment was clear in the accented voice. "If you knew what had happened to him when he disappeared, then my appearance wouldn't have been anything more than something curious and coincidental. But because no-one knows, I'm beginning to feel as if I have to justify my right to even exist. The few things I always thought could not be challenged, that I could always depend on, are being questioned. My name, my father and my alchemy. After the accident, that was all I had left. They were the only things I was certain of. Of all the things I had to be told and relearn afterwards, those were the ones that I just _knew_ were true. Now even that is being questioned, because of _him_. And all because of how I look which then leads into all of who I am." Edward ran his hand down the side of his face. "I'm sorry. I'm tired and I hurt a bit. I shouldn't be taking it out on you, Sir."

Roy looked at him. Von Hohenheim face was paler and there was a fine sheen across his forehead. The bright eyes were shadowed and Roy nearly kicked himself for forgetting that the young man had only just undergone surgery. A look of self-reproach crossed his face and the blond head shook in a denial at him.

"No, it's not your fault. You're my Commanding Officer. I shouldn't have spoken like that in the first place."

"This is partly why I wanted to wait until after you had recovered. You aren't really in the best condition to be questioned." Roy kept himself calm. This Edward was more perceptive than he had expected.

"You said earlier that there'd be no good time for this anyway, Sir. Today or in six weeks time, it won't make much difference. If anything, doing it now gets it over and done with or started at least." Von Hohenheim took a deep breath. "And there is one thing that you do need to know about." Roy watched, puzzled as von Hohenheim's hand pulled his shirt slightly to the left and then sucked his breath in as he saw it. He barely heard von Hohenheim keep talking as he stared at the perfect Flamel etched into the pale skin.

"It's a birthmark. My father had it as well. I didn't know until Fuery told me, that it was anything else."

"Fuery told you?" Roy was distracted and wondered when Fuery had seen this.

"Yes. He said it was something the other Edward had worn."

"Yes. He wore it all the time." Roy let his breath out and met the tired golden eyes.

"Fuery said he wouldn't tell anyone, but I don't think it's fair on him to keep secrets from his friends. I know it adds to the coincidence list, but…but I can't have any secrets in this. If I'm ever going to be seen as _me_, then I don't have a choice but to let you go through everything I can remember."

"Von Hohenheim, I think you might be overstating the position here."

"No, I'm not." He shifted and winced as his new ports pulled. "By being here I've already lost my name. Not one of you will ever call me Edward and I could lose the rest of me unless I do this. Everything I do is either 'just like Edward', or 'not like Edward'." The sweat began to slip down the side of his face and he winced again. "I don't want any more coincidences, I don't want any more similarities and I don't want to be compared to someone I'm not for the rest of my life."

Roy watched as the young man shifted, obviously starting to feel the pain breaking through whatever barriers he had kept it behind.

"You are in pain right now, so I'll get your mechanic and leave. Before I go, I want you to know a couple of things. I understand what you are saying, but you are gravely mistaken if you think that we don't see you as a person in your own right. Yes we do compare you at the moment, but to be able to compare you with him, we have to see you as _you_." The golden eyes went wide. "And I think you should talk to young Alphonse Elric at a later date. You aren't the only one with a memory loss. He too has a similar problem." Roy stood up and reached out to pull the shirt over the Flamel. "There is such a thing as Equivalent Exchange, von Hohenheim. You wouldn't be the only one talking. You might not want to know about the other Edward but for every thing you tell us, you'll learn about him in return." He turned and saw Fic in the doorway. "I have to go but I will come back tomorrow."

Von Hohenheim didn't answer and Roy looked at him. The golden head was bowed and he saw a distinct tremor go through him. Von Hohenheim looked up, his eyes were dark, with pain, and with something else Roy didn't recognise.

"Equivalent exchange doesn't exist, General." There was a pause and he saw the blond straighten up, clearing his face of whatever had caused those darker shadows. "Thank you for visiting today, Sir."

Roy nodded and left the room as Fic moved to the bedside. He walked out into the street feeling uneasy at the thought of an Edward who didn't believe in equivalent exchange.

* * *

General Roy Mustang sat in his office and stared at his desk. The sight of that symbol still hovered in his mind. He had seen that symbol on Ed's coat so many times. It had swirled in and out of his office. Most times it had been on a waving red flag of a coat, several times it had hung limply as its bearer had stepped slowly and it had been tossed carelessly over his couches on other occasions. He had never seen it on pale white skin before. And there had been other marks there, almost completely hidden by that thin shirt, but he had seen the deadened edges of a scar.

Tomorrow. More questions, more answers. More coincidences? The more he had spoken today, the more curious Roy had become. He could not imagine Edward Elric speaking so openly, so willingly about himself. And von Hohenheim kept a tighter rein on his temper. Even when he let it out, it was quickly brought back under control. Roy wondered just how much of a temper von Hohenheim had. He knew the young man could close up into a hard cold shell. He had seen that. But did he have the same fire in him that Edward Elric had always carried? Did he want to find it?

Hawkeye walked into his office with several files in her hands. She placed them on the table.

"Havoc has called in. They can't find Alphonse. He's not at the hotel."

Roy straightened up. "He was at the mechanic's earlier, but he ran out. Get a search started, Hawkeye and call von Hohenheim's mechanic as well. Ask him to notify us if Al shows up there again."

"Al was there?" Surprise flitted across her face before it disappeared beneath her usual exterior.

"Yes." Roy looked solemn. "I don't know how he got the address or whether he followed me there, but Al burst in and I don't think either was impressed. Al went running off. If he hasn't returned back to the hotel or to Miss Rockbell, try the river."

"Yes Sir." She saluted and left the room and he heard her voice on the phone.

He stood up and went to the window, staring out over the compound. He didn't think Al would do anything rash but the boy had been upset. For so long he had been looking and von Hohenheim _was_ the spitting image of Ed. To have it denied so emphatically would have devastated him, but Roy understood some of von Hohenheim's reasons. He would have to get them both to talk to each other. Al was probably going to be the harder one to convince, but if Al could look past the resemblance then he might accept that von Hohenheim was not his brother returned.

_And when will you believe that? _His mind whispered to him. _How many coincidences are too many?_

* * *

They found Al sitting beside the river. He had drawn an array and was transmuting the soil beside him into small hard packed balls that he was throwing into the river. Havoc strode down the bank and stood behind him.

"You look like one sorry-assed brat." He drawled.

"Go away," Al said without turning around.

"No can do, Al. The Chief wants you. He's had us hunting all over you."

"Why does he care?" Al grumped. He could still see the General seated next to that man who looked just like his brother. He hadn't said anything when _that man _had said those dreadful, hateful words.

"You know better than that." Havoc leant and rested a hand on the slender shoulder. "Come on kid. Let's get this done."

"I just wanted to see him! I just want him back!" Al buried his head into his knees and Havoc hunkered down beside him, looping an arm around the shaking boy. He looked up at Fuery.

"Find a phone and let them know we found him. Tell them we'll be there soon."

Fuery nodded and trotted back up to the road and disappeared. Havoc lowered himself further and sat down beside Al. He listened to the muffled sobs and kept his arm in place as he watched the river moving past. He waited as Al eased back, the shaking easing until the boy raised a pale face. Havoc pulled his handkerchief out and passed it over as Al went to use his sleeve.

There hadn't been many tears, Havoc noted. Dry sobbing probably wasn't as cathartic as all out bawling was, but it had helped somewhat and Al settled against Havoc.

"He looks like him."

"I know," Havoc replied easily.

"He said he wasn't my brother." Al worried at his lip. "He didn't recognise me at all. Surely he'd recognise me even if he couldn't remember me?"

"Al, you're assuming that it's Ed there. We don't know that."

"It has to be him. I want it to be him."

"It doesn't work that way and you know it." Havoc said firmly and felt Al tense before he slumped back down again.

"I just…"

"I know Al. We'd all like that too." Havoc gave the thin shoulders a squeeze. "But until it is, we've just got to figure out who we do have here. Help us find out."

"But his looks…"

"Yes, he looks like him, but he behaves completely differently. I'm not saying this is going to be easy, Al, but we have to find out who he is. We want to know just as much as you do."

Al turned and faced Havoc. He stared at the blond's serious face for a long moment before nodding.

"Okay, I'll help."

Havoc smiled. "Good. Now let's get you to the Chief before he snaps at us both."

"He should really snap at that imposter," Al mumbled under his breath and missed Havoc's quick grin at the almost sulky words.

* * *

The General was very much in evidence when Al entered his office. He was sitting at his desk, face stern and watched every step Al took as he walked to the desk.

"I had thought that you trusted me, Alphonse." The General began and Al took a breath. It was going to be one of _those _talks. He heard them from Winry often enough, he didn't want to hear the General start with one as well. The only good thing about the General was that he would be easier to handle whereas Winry was impossible to stop once she got going.

"Sir, I do trust you, but I really wanted to know and I didn't want to wait. I know it was wrong of me." Al pushed out quickly before the General could get into a rhythm. "I realise that my behaviour reflects badly on you and that I should be more careful in the future. I do appreciate all you do for me and I know that I wouldn't be able to search without your help. It was poor judgement on my part to have acted so wilfully."

Roy sat back and listened. Al was good, he thought. He had obviously been subjected to these lectures before, and he let him continue until he suddenly stopped speaking.

"I'm so glad we had this talk, Alphonse. Do you think I should say more?" Roy asked with a gentle query and Al blushed as he realised what he had done. "I do understand Al, and I don't want to give you the lecture that goes with all your answers. So let's start again with this."

"Yes General." Al eased himself into the chair in front of the desk and sat back.

"I am going to see von Hohenheim tomorrow and _you_ are not to appear this time. If you want, I will try to get a later date for you two to meet properly."

"I'm not going to apologise to him," Al stated and Roy smiled.

"I don't expect you to do that right now, Al. You can see what happens when you talk with him properly."

Al looked at the General. "But will he tell me anything? Is he just going to say I'm not his brother again? I want to know the truth. I want to know if he is or isn't my brother."

"He knows that. It's not easy for him either. He knows that you, that _we _all want to know. He's willing to talk about his past. Will you do the same?"

"Why do I have to do that?"

"Because that would only be fair, Al. You can't expect him to tell you everything and give nothing in exchange do you?"

Al frowned and fidgeted in his chair. "No." He admitted reluctantly. "But does he need to know _everything_?"

"Maybe not everything, but some things will have to told. This is not something either of us can lie about. To get to the truth, we will have to speak the truth."

"You'll tell me everything he says?"

"No. I don't know what he will tell me, but I will tell you all that I can. Just as I won't tell him anything you don't want known yet." Al frowned and Roy waited as he thought it through. He wasn't going to make promises he couldn't keep. That was something he didn't do.

"Okay." Al spoke and Roy blinked. "I'll wait and you can tell him things, but I'm not going to stop looking. If…if he isn't Ed then I don't want to lose a chance that he's somewhere else."

"I understand. Just don't wander too far. If anything happens then I want you to be close by."

"I won't."

Roy watched him leave and sighed. He had hoped that once Al got older the urge to search would fade and the boy would be more accepting of the situation, but it wasn't happening. There was an unsettling edge of desperation at times and he worried how Al would cope as time went on and he kept coming up empty-handed. While Von Hohenheim _might_ not be Ed, hopefully having him here would give Al a better perspective on things.

He looked up at a timid tap on his door and smiled.

"Come in Fuery, shut the door please."

* * *

Edward von Hohenheim laid back into his pillows and let his breath out. He pressed the cold damp cloth to his forehead and eyes and swallowed hard.

"It's looking good, Ed," Fic remarked as he wiped his hands on a towel before picking up the tangled pile of bandages.

"Still bloody hurts," Edward mumbled through dry lips.

Fic chuckled. Changing the bandages had given him a chance to test the ports and Ed had striven to let nothing more than a few grunts escape even as the pain had escalated the longer the testing went.

"It should start to settle down soon. I'll give you a nice sponge bath and you'll feel much better."

"This is really humiliating, Fic." Edward scowled from under the cloth without looking at the man.

"I know," Fic's voice was gentle. He knew how much Ed hated being confined to the bed. "It's Wednesday, you've had the ports since Sunday. If you can manage it on one leg, we'll get you a proper bath on Friday, but only if everything is as good as it is now."

"I'll manage it."

"Good, because after that we'll look at connecting your leg and then you'll be confined again for a few days."

Edward groaned.

* * *

"Von Hohenheim tells me you saw his birth mark," Mustang said to Fuery once the smaller man had shut the door and come to his desk. He saw the stricken expression on Fuery's face and leant forward. "Von Hohenheim didn't think it was fair on you to ask you to keep it a secret."

"He didn't ask me, Sir. I offered, I said I wouldn't tell."

"He said something like that and it's up to you if you tell the others or not. You don't have to keep it a secret if you don't want to."

"I thought about it earlier, Sir, and so long as you know, then it can wait before the others find out. I'd rather keep my word if I can. I… I don't think von Hohenheim has anyone he can trust here yet, and I'd like to help him if I can."

"I think he'd like that, Fuery." Roy paused. "I realise it might be difficult, but if you ever feel like you are getting caught in the middle, don't hesitate to speak out. I don't want you to feel as if you have been placed in such a position, and I don't think von Hohenheim would either."

"Thank you Sir."

Roy leant back in his chair after Fuery had left. He stretched slightly before settling properly. He had thought to have six weeks before he had to deal with Edward von Hohenheim. Time in which he could give himself the distance he needed. To have been able to make sure the feelings he had for Edward Elric would stay tightly locked away. But he had spent time with him and he understood the others better now. Unable to be completely sure of the young man's identity. The logic that said it wasn't and the hope that said it was. The longer he had sat there, the harder it had been to tell.

Even faced with von Hohenheim's complete certainty of himself, it was hard to be completely convinced. That little voice that wanted it to be Ed refused to accept what was in front of him. Every coincidence made it stronger. And he was seeing him tomorrow. He was startled as he found himself looking forward to it.

* * *

It was late and the small circle of light cast shadows across the bed and around the room. Edward looked at the book in his lap. His fingers traced the pattern across the front and he took a deep breath before he removed one of the papers sticking out from it. Faded, damaged, sepia coloured, it was one of two photos he had.

He held it carefully. His family. Before the accident. Before everything had been lost. He looked at them. His father, mother and brother. And himself, young and barely reaching his father's waist. He wished he could remember it. He turned it over. _Basel 1906_ was written on the back. He thought it was his mother's handwriting, he knew it wasn't his Dad's. Perhaps he should show it to the General.

He turned it back over and looked at the faces again. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember them. His mother and his brother. Half of his family and he couldn't remember them. The General had said that the other Edward's younger brother had a memory problem as well, but at least he could remember what his brother looked like. Edward stared at his brother's image. William looked like their mother, but with blond hair, Dad had said. The sepia print didn't show the colours. His dark haired mother was seated and William was standing just beside her. Both were smiling and Edward smiled at them.

"I know I don't remember you, but I won't ever forget you," he told them softly. He slipped the photo back into his book and leant back in his pillows. Yes, maybe tomorrow he could show the General. Proof that he wasn't this Edward they all saw him as. Proof that he did exist and hadn't become a ghost. And he was going to find out more about this other Edward. He had a feeling the General was going to insist on it even though he didn't really want to know.

"_Equivalent exchange. Do not put your faith in the concept, Edward. Your calculations must always balance. But the exchange will never be equivalent. You will always put in more than you get back. Whether you think that to give is to get or you believe you are maintaining a balance, remember this. You will always give more than you get in return."_

"Was your life what you gave up for me, Dad? Was getting here really as necessary as you said?" Edward looked up at shadow covering half the ceiling. "Sometimes… sometimes I wish I could forget what you did."

* * *

-0-

The historical Philip von Hohenheim was born and raised in the village of Maria Einsiedeln in Switzerland. His father was Wilhelm Bombast von Hohenheim. I've used this for Edward von Hohenheim's family.

Basel is a Swiss city on the border of Switzerland with France and Germany.

Author's Note: Yes, I am still writing this one, no I hadn't forgotten it and yes, I hope to be more prompt updating it … smiles…

I know the demon thought I was working on Crush, and I was until vonH kicked and wanted attention too, so now I can go back to it, pushy demon…lol…

Thank you to everyone for your patience and your support… I really do appreciate you being there and keeping me working at these…

silken :)


	8. “Is he someone important to you?”

**To Remember**

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor ever will, Fullmetal Alchemist or the characters within.

* * *

**Chapter 8: "Is he someone important to you?"**

Edward von Hohenheim swallowed hard and inched his way across the bed back into his pillows. Sweat beaded at the sides of his face and he could feel his shirt sticking to him. He could feel the shaking that would begin the moment he released his hold on the sheets and took a deep breath as he sank back and shuddered.

"You're a damned stubborn idiot," Fic told him as he handed over the damp cloth.

"I know," Von Hohenheim replied roughly as he accepted the cloth and wiped it over his face, his hand shaking.

"Just as well you're not too heavy," Fic remarked as he tugged up the sheet from the foot of the bed. Ed was pale and Fic monitored the tremors that went through the blond. Nothing serious, he decided. Everything was normal. Everything except the stubborn young man in front of him. He had come in to find Ed literally dragging himself across the floor. He wasn't surprised he hadn't heard any noises or sounds to alert him as to what the blond had been attempting. He wasn't even surprised when he realised why Ed was crawling on the floor, but he had been angry and he hadn't wasted any time letting Ed know exactly what he thought about him even as he had lifted him from the floor and carried him to the bathroom.

"I'm sorry," von Hohenheim muttered from under the cloth.

Fic sighed. "Just don't do it again, Ed. I know its hard being restricted to the bed, but you can't go moving around this soon after the surgery."

"I know. I won't do it again but I really hate this part of it. Using…" he tilted his head sideways to indicate the bedpan and bottle that sat on a low table by the bed and kept his face hidden, "…those things _is_ humiliating. I wanted to feel normal again."

"Call me next time and I'll carry you. You have to treat the ports very carefully when they're first attached. Moving carelessly during this initial stage could cause major problems and even cause your nerves to reject the port. Do not make me have to tie you to the bed to make you stay there."

"Okay," Edward said in a low voice. His whole body was aching and the ports were painfully protesting his earlier stupidity. Fic shook his head as he watched the muscles trembling around the bandaged ports. He sympathised with the young man. He remembered how it felt to be stuck in bed, not able to do anything for yourself, having to rely on someone else for everything. No matter how many times you went through it, it was never something you got used to. Fic placed his hand on the young man's shoulder for a brief moment.

"Half an hour and breakfast'll be ready." He removed his hand and left the room and Edward kept his face hidden. The words had been said in a normal everyday voice but the hand at his shoulder had been gentle and Edward had to swallow hard several times before he could lift his head away from the damp cloth.

It had been a long time since anyone had touched him like that. The feel of knowing that he wasn't alone, that there was someone beside him. His father had been comfortable with the occasional hug and had never shied away from offering support with a hand to his shoulder or a rough pat on his head. Fic's touch had that familiar feel to it and he ached somewhere inside to think that he had no way of knowing when he would feel that kind of touch again.

Friends, family, there was none of that here. _There's Fuery,_ he told himself. _He's a friend,_ a_nd the others are trying not to make me feel uncomfortable and out of place. Even the General's trying. _Edward sighed. _But it's not like before, when I always knew Dad was there. Everything I am…everything I do is in question here and there's no-one who knows me from before. After the fire I had Dad there, this time I have no-one. And this place, it's nothing like Munich. How long will it be before I feel at home here? Before it _is _home?_

Edward von Hohenheim put the cloth back over his face and told himself that it was the pain from the ports making his eyes sting.

* * *

"He's a bit depressed today," Fic told the General when Roy asked how von Hohenheim was as he entered the small shop.

"Depressed?"

"Most patients suffer bouts like this at some stage of the process. Automail surgery is hard and painful, both mentally and physically as you are already know, and regardless of whether it's a first attachment or a third, there are always those moments when it just gets overwhelming." Fic looked at the man in front of him. "Ed's feeling a bit down and it will probably last until he gets his leg attached. He won't say much - if anything, about it, and I doubt he'll appreciate you asking him either."

Roy was about to say that he knew how to deal with a depressed Edward and stopped short when he remembered that this was not _his _Edward. Von Hohenheim did _not _react in the same way Edward Elric would have. Although it sounded as if von Hohenheim was as reluctant as Ed had once been to admit to anything being wrong with either him or anything around him. He listened as the man continued speaking.

"I should be able to attach his leg in a couple of days and he's not going to want to just lay there doing nothing when then happens. If you want, you can bring him something to occupy him, he'd probably enjoy having something different to do. He'll stay in bed, but Ed's the kind of patient where boredom will interfere with his recovery."

"I'll get my staff to organise something for him," Roy replied.

"Thank you. The more active his head is, the better his recovery will be."

"There are no problems though? With him at the moment?" Roy asked, wondering why he was suddenly worried. _This isn't my Ed. But it could be_, his mind whispered back.

Fic shook his head. "No, but that's not for lack of trying." Fic's grin appeared briefly before it vanished just as suddenly. "Ed's stronger than he looks. He'll do just fine. Go on through," and Fic tilted his head to the door leading to the infirmary. "He's expecting you."

Roy nodded his thanks and steeped into the short passage that led to von Hohenheim's room. His knock went unanswered and after a brief pause he opened the door cautiously. Von Hohenheim was propped up against his pillows, his eyes closed. Roy entered quietly and walked over to settle in the chair beside the bed.

He probably shouldn't stay, he thought, but he didn't want to go just yet. His eye surveyed the sleeping young man. He was pale and there was a small furrow across the white forehead. It was hard to see von Hohenheim here now. This sleeping man had to be Edward Elric. No accent, no differences, just the purely physical similarity. Roy studied the face and could find none of the differences that beset him when von Hohenheim was awake. He knew that there were those familiar golden eyes under the closed lids, those eyes that he had seen show everything from anger to despair, determination to hatred. He knew that the hair was longer and the face not as tanned but he still saw Edward Elric there. Those hidden eyes would open and it would be his Edward there. The one he remembered. The one they wanted to have back.

His fingers reached out slowly and his breath held as they moved closer to the hair falling over Edward's face. A bare inch away and he stopped, unable to complete the movement, unable to actually touch that hair. _I'd just be moving it off his face, I have my gloves on, I wouldn't actually be touching him, he looks so much like Edward, how can he be anyone else? _

The golden head moved slightly and a low mutter broke the silence. The unfamiliar sounding words had Roy drawing his hand back before he realised it. The foreign language was like a slap in his face. _This is not Edward, not Fullmetal, not my Edward._ The muttering stopped and von Hohenheim slipped deeper into his pillows, the furrow deepening on his forehead. Was he in pain, Roy wondered, or was it something in his sleep? Fic had said he was depressed. How had he known that? Edward Elric never let his depression become visible. It suddenly struck Roy that Fic was the only person who saw von Hohenheim as he was.

Yesterday he had told von Hohenheim that he did see him as separate from Edward Elric, but he realised that it wasn't completely true. Roy only saw Edward von Hohenheim when he catalogued the differences. Fic saw Edward von Hohenheim as Edward von Hohenheim, as 'Ed', as his patient and client. He never once compared him to anyone else because to Fic, Edward von Hohenheim was exactly who he said he was. It was everyone else, himself included, that were trying to find more. Who always saw the shadow of Edward Elric behind him. But it was impossible not to. Roy didn't think he would ever be able to look at Edward von Hohenheim and not see Edward Elric there.

Roy couldn't even call him by his first name, even in his thoughts. 'Edward', 'Ed' always meant Elric, always brought images of Fullmetal, the memories of four years of working together. And even hearing the word 'Hohenheim' sent his mind fracturing through visions of the two different Edwards. He let his breath out as he looked at the young man again. All his sleepless nights and twisting thoughts were because of him. Ever since he had seen that name on that list he had been facing thoughts he had tried hard to forget. He had never imagined anything like this ever happening.

_I was supposed to carry it forever, locked away somewhere so it wouldn't hurt as the years kept passing. So it would fade and disappear. Where it could be just another unrealised dream. It wasn't supposed to be like this. _He sighed. It was too late for dragging up the regrets again or for indulging in more self-pity. He'd done enough of that during those sleepless nights. He stared at Edward von Hohenheim and was suddenly struck by another thought.

_What would I have done if the real Edward had returned? _

* * *

Al sat on a bench at Central Station and stared at the train in front of him. Another fifteen minutes and it would be leaving and in his pocket was a ticket. He couldn't stay here, not while that…that _imposter_ was here. He couldn't bear the thought that somewhere close by there was someone with Ed's face, and it wasn't Ed. It wasn't his brother. His brother would never have been so cold to him. Or to Winry. He had heard what had happened and knew that the bruise was still there on her arm, much faded but still visible.

All he wanted was to find his brother. He had searched everywhere he could. He had read old reports and re-visited the places mentioned there. He had snuck into the underground city and spent days walking around and exploring. He had forced what few memories he had of those four years out and had nothing to show for any of it. No matter how hard he looked, however many people he spoke to and places he went, there was simply no trace of his brother.

He had considered the possibility his brother was dead. Usually around midnight and usually while sitting sleepless on a train somewhere. He didn't like those thoughts and he would combat them with the thought that people didn't just vanish into thin air. There had to be something – some trace, some remnant that would tell him where Edward was or what had happened. So what if it had been five years. Somewhere there was the one thing that he just knew he would find and be able to get his answers from. Somewhere, he was going to find his brother.

He stood up abruptly and almost bumped into a couple of other passengers going past. Exclamations of surprise turned into dismay as the cases on their trolley toppled as they tried to avoid him. He bowed his head quickly and apologised.

"No harm done, young man," a woman told him with a smile. He smiled hesitantly back. She was middle aged and there were tired circles around her eyes, but there was no indication she was upset with the near accident as she looked at fallen cases.

"Boys with long hair," the older woman beside her said with a whine. "Not looking where they're going, just pushing and shoving folks about. What's wrong with the young people today?"

"Now, now mother. The young man has apologised and it really was an accident. These platforms can get so busy." She gave Al an apologetic smile and he smiled sympathetically back.

"Let me give you a hand Ma'am," Al offered as he saw her tired eyes again as she bent to pick up one of the cases.

"Oh no, we're fine really," she began but was cut off by her elderly mother.

"Nonsense, Jane-Marie, let the boy help if he wants to. Makes a pleasant change to see young folks brought up to do the right thing."

Al blinked at the old woman completely baffled at her change of manner. He looked at Jane-Marie and saw the wry expression on her face that disappeared when she turned to him and a smile crossed her face as she saw his bewilderment. "Don't mind her." She lowered her voice slightly. "Her age makes her thinking go in different ways, that's all."

Al nodded. He understood what she meant, although it was a strange way to phrase it. But he guessed the woman really couldn't call her own mother crazy, could she? He picked up a couple of the cases and put them back on the trolley.

"Thank you. You've been most helpful." Jane-Marie smiled at him gratefully. "Are you catching this train too? I hope we haven't delayed you."

"Not at all, Ma'am," Al replied politely. "This is my train too."

"Ah, well thank you again for your help."

"Don't talk to strangers, Jane-Marie! You don't know where he's been!" Jane-Marie winked at him before she turned to follow her mother who was shouting from the train steps. Al bit his lip and bent down to get his own case and then looked around as he couldn't find it.

He spun in a circle before he saw it. On the trolley with the luggage he had just helped pick up. Al would have cursed had years of self-control not stopped him. _But one day_, he thought. _One day I will say all those words, I mean it's not like I'm not _allowed_ to use them. I just choose not to. Maybe I should change that. _

"Ma'am!" he called as he began to walk rapidly. She was talking with a guard and her mother had disappeared into the carriage. She smiled at him as she turned. "My case! It's on your trolley."

"Is it?" She looked back at the guard who was beginning to take the trolley to the baggage car. "Please stop a moment!" The guard watched as they both hurried the few steps to him. It was sorted quickly, Al watching as Jane-Marie re-organised the cases rapidly and freed his from the pile. Al clutched the handle of his case tightly as he watched the guard continue on his interrupted way with the trolley.

"I think that makes everything alright now," Jane-Marie said. "Are you making this trip on your own?" She looked at Al, thinking he couldn't be more than fourteen at the most.

"Yes." Al nodded. He recognised the look in her eyes. He had seen it often these last years. People who thought he was too young to be able to take care of himself and who usually tried to either mother him or lecture him. He sighed and waited. And waited. He looked up as nothing happened. She was looking at him with the same wry expression she had had when she had been dealing with her mother.

"Then you'd better get a move on," she told him when he remained silent a bit longer. "Train'll be leaving in a few minutes and you'll want a window seat, I'm guessing." Al's eyes opened wide. "You remind me of a young man we met on our way to Central. Got 'independent' and 'don't need anyone' written right across your face, just like he did." She turned to walk towards the train and Al grabbed at her sleeve. She looked back startled.

"This man… the one you met… did he have golden eyes?"

"Yes he did." Jane-Marie frowned. "A relative of yours? You look slightly like him although he did have a strange way of speaking."

"You met…von Hohenheim?" he asked in a shocked whisper just as the boarding call came.

"Yes, that was his name." She began to frown. "Are you alright? Do you know him?"

"Uh, yeah, kind of." Al worried at his lip.

"I …" She looked over her shoulder and then back at him. "I have to go now. I can't let my mother leave without me. Will you be alright?"

Al stared for a moment. "This is my train too," he said as he made his mind up. He looked at her as he let go of her sleeve and stepped towards the train. "Will you tell me more about him?"

She raised her eyebrows and walked up beside him. "Is he someone important to you?"

"Maybe," he muttered, his hands tightening on his suitcase.

"You can sit with us, if you like," she smiled.

* * *

Von Hohenheim opened his eyes and turned his head, dry mouth working and his unfocused eyes caught on the solid lump of blue moving in his room.

"Gen'ral?" he queried, his voice thick with sleep. The blue stopped moving and turned around and he blinked his eyes to clear them. Dark hair, a solid black patch and a pale face above all that blue. "General," von Hohenheim repeated it as if he had just classified an unknown object.

Roy turned around slowly and looked at the sleep-hazed young man. He had hoped to be able to leave without before von Hohenheim had woken. Thoughts of Edward and not being able to answer his own questions had made him determined to leave, and as he watched the golden eyes begin to sharpen their focus he began to think of reasons not to stay.

"Sorry Sir. I shouldn't have fallen asleep when I knew you were coming," von Hohenheim apologised and Roy shook his head.

"It's quite alright. You're recovery comes first. We can talk at other times," he said calmly. Von Hohenheim began to push himself slowly up his pillows, carefully shifting his ports as his flesh limbs did all the work. Roy watched and found himself wanting to go and help but not able to move. _He doesn't expect me to help so why do I want to help him? He's not Edward._

"Thank you for visiting, Sir. I'm sorry to have wasted your time, I know how busy you are."

And Roy had the perfect excuse to leave handed to him. His eye flickered. "Yes and Major Hawkeye always has more for me to do."

Von Hohenheim suddenly smiled. "The Major is very efficient."

"She is," Roy agreed and wondered why he was still standing there and not walking out the door. He frowned and then gave himself a mental shake. "I'll return tomorrow. I think you'd probably be better getting some more sleep, you're looking very pale."

Von Hohenheim stared at the man. The deep frown was at odds with the almost friendly sound of his voice. "I overdid it a bit earlier," von Hohenheim said without thinking.

"A bit?" Roy's eyebrow rose as he asked, his scepticism obvious.

"Perhaps, maybe it was more than a bit," and von Hohenheim looked away, his eyes dropping slightly.

"There's no sense in that stubborn head, is there Ed…" Roy stopped abruptly and dismay swept across his face and became a cold wave through him. He turned on his heel and left the room unable to face the startled blond.

Von Hohenheim stared, his eyes wide and his heart pounding. He absently pulled the covers up and held them close to him with a tight grasp. He had to swallow hard as he became aware of his quickened breathing.

_Is that how he talked to the other Edward? _Von Hohenheim felt his eyes ache as he stared at the empty doorway. _Did he just treat me as the other one? Didn't he see me at all? How, why would that just happen? What did I do? Was it what I said? But we never really said anything, not like yesterday. And why now? Why not on any of the days I was at the office? Although I never saw much of him there. Was he avoiding me? Is this likeness _that_ upsetting? I thought people were at least getting a little bit used to it. And he did say yesterday that they saw _me _and not just the similarity. Was that a lie?_

Von Hohenheim sank into his pillows still clutching at the covers. Of all the people he had met, the General had struck him as one of the most self-controlled people there. His manner of yesterday had been an exemplary exercise of that control. What had broken it today? Von Hohenheim worried at his bottom lip as he tried to figure out what had changed. His breathing and heart rate had nearly returned to normal when a thought suddenly had him tensing up again. _Why does it hurt that he didn't see me?_

* * *

Roy Mustang was halfway to the office before he realised it. He kept walking towards Headquarters even as he knew he didn't want to go there. But there was nowhere else to go. He couldn't face his apartment right now, not that cold empty place. If he went home he'd end up drinking to try and forget again. It had been four days since he had last done that and he hadn't forgotten a thing.

He glowered at the ground as he walked. Emotions and thoughts were rolling around his head and his heart and he didn't know where to begin. For that brief moment he had treated von Hohenheim as Edward Elric. He had responded automatically to the words, so similar to what Ed would have said. The half-guilty tone, the reluctant admission had resonated in him and he had opened his mouth without thinking. And then he had seen the bewilderment in the golden eyes that had given way to a flash of hurt and then into startled recognition. Von Hohenheim knew what Roy had done. After being so careful, after trying so hard to ensure von Hohenheim was not treated differently because of his looks, Roy had gone and done just that. His mind had fractured somehow and he had seen Edward von Hohenheim there, but spoken to Edward Elric.

_Stupid, stupid. So damned stupid of me. Why did I do that? _How_ did that happen? If only I'd left before he woke up, this would never have happened. Damn it, if I hadn't been thinking of Edward so much earlier. I didn't mean to do it. After what I said yesterday about comparing him with Ed, how could I have been so careless? He was hurt. That was hurt in his eyes. He's not going to believe me if I tell him that I did still see him there. He's thinking that all I saw was Ed, the 'other Edward' he says. To me, von Hohenheim is the other Edward. There has to be an answer to this somewhere. And I have to go back there tomorrow. This little slip up will have damaged whatever trust I managed to gain yesterday. _

He was going to have to apologise. If he wanted to have any chance of finding more out about Edward von Hohenheim he had to apologise. He sighed and stopped walking. An apology wasn't going to fix anything. Ed never trusted them, he always thought there was a hidden angle to them and Roy groaned again. _Wrong Edward again! Dammit, what the hell is wrong with me today?_ _It's Edward _von Hohenheim _I'm going to apologise to and it won't be the same. I don't know how this Edward will…dammit, now I'm thinking of 'this' Edward and 'that' Edward._

His lips thinned. _Von Hohenheim is not Elric. _This_ Edward is not _that_ Edward. _He swallowed hard. _I have to believe that. _

He looked up and saw the huge marble building that was Headquarters gleaming whitely in the sun. The flags were moving although he was too far away to hear them snap and flutter. For so many years he had served the State, not always happily and not always patriotically. But he had always served. He had forced himself to accept a lot of unpleasant truths throughout the years. He could learn to accept one more. _Edward von Hohenheim is not Edward Elric. I can… I have to believe that._

* * *

Al stared out the window at the passing scenery. Jane-Marie and her mother were arguing over various coloured wools and patterns and he had moved to the seat over the aisle to be able to think. It was kind of nice to know someone else on the train. Usually he would just sit and read or look out the window, but this time he had someone he could _talk_ to. When her mother fell asleep that is. The old woman's almost continual mental shifts made it nearly impossible to talk to her. He really didn't know how Jane-Marie managed to stay so calm and even-tempered. He knew it wasn't easy. There were lines around her eyes and shadows beneath them, but she never let her good humour slip.

Edward von Hohenheim. It was the only reason he had decided to stay close to them. They had met him on his way to Central. He had come from the west somewhere. Al wasn't going to sit and wait for the General to question the imposter, he was going to find out for himself. He was going to prove that everyone was wasting their time with that fraud when they should be looking for his _real_ brother.

"_But it is just looks. I don't know you, I've never seen you before. I said it before, I will say it again. You can not make me be someone I am not. I am not your brother." _ The words echoed in his head again. Why were they taking it so easy on him when even …_he_ knew he wasn't who they thought he was? It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to his brother _and_ _it's not fair to me either,_ Al thought. _I just want my brother. Five years and I haven't found anything, how much longer will it take?_ He pressed his head against the window, his eyes tightly closed as he felt his eyes prickling. He saw again that cold expression on that familiar face. _You are not my brother._

Jane-Marie looked across the aisle and saw how tense the youth was. He was a strange one she decided. So determined about something he hadn't mentioned yet. And probably wasn't going to, she decided as she watched him. He looked as if he didn't share too much of himself with others, which struck her as being at odds with the open and almost transparent expressions that showed in his face. She turned back as her mother dropped her wool. _Ah well_, she thought, _at least I'll have someone to talk to when Mother naps._

* * *

Edward von Hohenheim was restless. He carefully turned over again and stared at the wall. Ever since the General had left he had been unable to settle. His mind kept returning to that moment when the dark eye had widened and shock and dismay had coloured that pale face. That image got in the way when he tried to read. It was there when he closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep.

Edward swore quietly under his breath and went through the slow motions that would get him sat up, leaning back into his pillows. It was annoying him that he was so bothered by it. It was bound to happen sometime, it could have been any one of the others. It just happened to have been the General, that's all. He had felt the weight of their looks since he had arrived. He _knew_ what they saw and he had managed to keep his irritation fairly well controlled. But it was obvious now that he was never going to be seen as anything but a shadow - a ghost. He was never going to be accepted as himself. His hand lifted and pressed over his birthmark, feeling it through his thin shirt.

Too many similarities for them, too many differences to him.

"I need to get out of that office," he murmured. He looked at the table beside his bed. His hand reached out and ran down the spine of one of the books there. He inched over carefully and managed to pull it out of pile by sliding off the two others that were stacked on it. The leather was cool to the touch and he placed it in his lap as he settled back into the pillows. The photograph he had intended to show the General was sticking out of it. "One, all," he murmured as he placed his finger on the dragon pressed into the leather cover and began to trace the circular form. The soft leather warmed as his finger kept following the coiled dragon.

"'… but the movement suited to his spherical form was assigned to him, being of all the seven that which is most appropriate to mind and intelligence; and he was made to move in the same manner and on the same spot, within his own limits revolving in a circle.'" Von Hohenheim quoted as his fingers kept moving around the ouroboros. "Whose circle am I walking, Dad?"

"Ed?"

Von Hohenheim blinked and looked up. Fic stood just inside the door looking at the young man curiously. "You alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Ed replied. "Just bored I guess."

"Well I have some limbs to work on. You could help if you want. Easy stuff you can manage it with one hand."

"One hand is all I have," Ed said lightly, trying to shake off the shadowy thoughts he could feel lurking. He shifted to put his book back on the table as Fic disappeared briefly and came back with several arms which he placed on the bed. Ed poked at one as he looked at them.

"I need to make some adjustments to these," Fic told him as he placed his tools on the bed next to the arms. "You can help hold them steady for me, and then later we can switch around and you can have a try as well."

"Why? I'm not a mechanic."

"No, but you should have some idea of how it all works and how to do this. If something goes wrong, chances are you won't be anywhere near a mechanic, so you need to know how to carry out basic repairs." Fic held up a screwdriver and used it to point at him. "You're an alchemist so you can probably use that to repair any outside damage, but not if anything goes wrong with the inner workings."

"I used to have to jury-rig the old ones."

"I know, but this time I will teach you how to do it properly." Fic picked up one of the arms and placed it in front of Ed. "You can copy what I do on this one. Let's begin."

"How am I going to hold it steady?" he asked as he looked at it.

"Use your leg," Fic said and handed him a screwdriver.

* * *

"Hard day, Roy?" General Paull asked as the dark-haired man dropped into the chair in his private study. The evening sky bled orange through the window and Roy stared at it for a long moment.

"You could say that," he replied.

Paull's eyes narrowed and he studied the younger man. There was a heaviness to him he hadn't seen before. "You're carrying the shadows," Paull remarked and Roy blinked, a puzzled frown creasing his forehead. "Something my first Sergeant used to say. 'Carrying the shadows' was his way of saying you were thinking too hard about things."

"Did he say how to get rid of them?"

"No, he failed me there." Paull leant back in his chair. He didn't need to ask to have an inkling of what was probably disturbing Roy. He let him sit in silence for a long time. It was half an hour before he spoke again.

"Do you want me to transfer him out of there?"

Roy looked at his gloved hands. "No," he spoke almost gently. "I will see this through."

"As of tomorrow he becomes known as the Forged Alchemist."

* * *

-

The ouroboros drawing from the early alchemical text _The Chrysopoeia of Cleopatra_ dating to 2nd century Alexandria encloses the words _hen to pan_, "one, the all", i.e. "All is One". Its black and white halves represent the Gnostic duality of existence.

Edward quotes a passage from Plato's _Timeus_.

Author's Note: Thank you for being so patient with vonH and me. I have been unable to write as much as I want to lately, so I am pleased to have been able to get this one done… and for those that keep asking I have not forgotten the dragon and he is next on my to-do list…

I am really sorry for the delays, so I really appreciate you being there…

silken :)


	9. “Is this some kind of joke?”

**To Remember**

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor ever will, Fullmetal Alchemist or the characters within.

* * *

**Chapter 9: "Is this some kind of joke?"**

General Roy Mustang sat, his elbows on his desk and his chin resting on his linked gloved fingers, with a thin folder in front of him. Edward Von Hohenheim's official Notification of State Alchemist Title stared at him and his eye followed the smooth and elegant calligraphy of a name that was becoming all too familiar.

_In the name of the State of Amestris_

_the title of_

**_Forged Alchemist_**

_is bestowed upon_

_Edward von Hohenheim_

_How many years has it been since I gave Edward his title notification? He was eager, willing, ready to carry everything. He had liked it._ _He had wanted it. _Roy lowered his head, forehead resting on his fingers, remembering the bright stubborn golden eyes looking at him after reading his new title._ Little brat. He hadn't had a damned clue._

* * *

Kain Fuery paused in the doorway and looked at his General. An air of gloom and sorrow hung around the still figure. He wondered how long the General had been sitting there and worried at his lip before taking a tentative step into the room.

There was no sign the General was aware of him so he took another step and coughed quietly. Nothing and Fuery began to frown. This was very unlike Mustang. Unless he was asleep and Fuery was just imagining the melancholic air from the man's posture alone? Fuery moved closer and gave a louder cough.

The dark head lifted and Fuery blinked at the paleness of the face that appeared.

"Yes?" The voice was rough and the dark eye glittered strangely before Mustang blinked and suddenly sat up straight. "Sorry Fuery. What is it?" The voice was smoother now and Fuery was left wondering just what had happened. Had the General been asleep or not? The transition had been too quick for him to decide.

"Several reports need your signature, Sir," Fuery said as he closed the distance to the desk. He put the files he was carrying on the corner of the desk.

"Thank you," Mustang replied in an absent manner and Fuery saw he was looking at the file in front of him.

"Sir? Are …are you alright?" Fuery was hesitant in asking but there really appeared to be something bothering Mustang and while he'd never normally have the courage to ask, things had felt different for Fuery since Edward Von Hohenheim had arrived. Von Hohenheim saw Kain Fuery in ways Edward Elric had never seen him, and Kain felt guilty to realise that he liked the way von Hohenheim relied on him and wanted his friendship.

Roy looked at the small man. Fuery was trying harder than any of them to see Von Hohenheim as someone other than Edward Elric. The tender-hearted nature that led him to bring in abandoned animals also had him trying to help misplaced people. And von Hohenheim was more misplaced than anyone. Misplaced or abandoned? Roy frowned slightly. From what Von Hohenheim had said so far, Roy felt he could be both. Would he stay that way or was it ever going to be possible for him to find a place here? Roy's eye flickered. Fuery was the only one trying to help von Hohenheim to find that place.

"Are you going to visit von Hohenheim later?"

"Yes Sir." Fuery looked a little confused at the sudden question. He hadn't been able to go yesterday and he was feeling slightly guilty about it.

"Fic said von Hohenheim would recover better with something to occupy him. Perhaps you could see Hawkeye and get her to choose and you can take it with you." Roy kept his face and voice clear. Fuery's query had surprised him. He hadn't thought he'd been letting anything show and he hoped Fuery would ignore the unanswered question. Fuery was not the sort to insist on answers. If it had been Hawkeye or even Havoc, Roy knew it would have been very different. Those two had entered into an unholy alliance as far as he was concerned. Ever since his unwilling return they had taken it upon themselves to look after him from a discreet distance but they didn't hesitate to lecture or question when they thought he was behaving differently.

"Yes, Sir." Fuery was still regarding him with a curious look and Roy just hoped the younger soldier didn't mention it to Riza when he spoke to her. Roy looked at file in front of him again and decided to see von Hohenheim now. It was only right that he be told of his title before anyone else and he would be able to apologise at the same time. That was not going to be pleasant.

"I'll be seeing him shortly and I'll tell him to expect you," Roy said and then cursed mentally at how formal he sounded.

"Thank you Sir," Fuery replied and Roy saw Fuery's face crease slightly. It was so hard to act as normal and he didn't know why. Just that one moment of reacting to von Hohenheim as if Edward Elric were there had somehow completely shaken his usual calm. A sleepless night hadn't helped and knowing that he would have to see him again today had not helped ease his unsettled mind. And now Fuery knew something was amiss.

"Was there anything else?" Roy asked knowing he was leaving himself open to Fuery's questions. But Fuery shook his head as pink tinged his cheeks and he looked away in embarrassment.

"No Sir." Fuery's voice was quiet and the embarrassment clear as he turned around and left the office. Roy ran a hand through his hair and leant back in his chair. Not for the first time he wished he knew what had happened to Edward Elric. Because facing that young man with _that _face was becoming the most difficult thing he could imagine.

* * *

Fuery watched Hawkeye sorting out some files for von Hohenheim and sighed. Something had been bothering the General but he hadn't felt brave enough to ask, even when the General had given him an opportunity. Besides he knew the probable reason anyway. It was the same with everything else lately. It all ended with 'ever since von Hohenheim arrived.' Fuery didn't think that was exactly true. To him it had all started since von Hohenheim had gone for the surgery. Up to that point he'd been visible, he'd been _there_ and they could see the differences all the time. But now he was gone, hidden away for a while and any signs of acceptance were disappearing behind doubt and suspicion.

They couldn't ask before because they were being cautious and now when he wasn't there, they wanted to ask. They wanted to know. Every search they did came up empty. There was no record of him anywhere. The places he had mentioned didn't exist. Breda had jokingly mentioned amnesia yesterday and today Havoc had started searching for any record of anyone suffering from that. Havoc wasn't happy at coming up empty-handed so far and they all knew that Havoc could become obsessed if he didn't start finding something soon. Despite his easy-going manner he ran Falman a close second for knowing everything.

"Hawkeye?"

"What, Fuery?" she replied without stopping her sorting.

"Do you think that von Hohenheim has amnesia?"

"It's possible. No-one really knows much about the mind and how it works."

"It seems unnatural. That someone would just forget everything and everyone. How is that even possible? I can't see Ed ever forgetting Al." He let his breath out. "And von Hohenheim has all his memories and does things Ed never did."

Hawkeye turned and placed several files on the desk and looked at him. "Are you trying to convince yourself that he _isn't_ Edward?"

"Yes…no…I don't know." Fuery sounded as exasperated as he felt. He looked at Hawkeye, worrying at his bottom lip before he said in a very small voice. "I like him, Hawkeye. I like von Hohenheim. If he is Edward, then what happens? Does von Hohenheim just disappear?"

Hawkeye looked at him for a long moment and then knelt down beside his desk to be at his level. "I don't think so. If he is Edward, how do you make him remember what he's forgotten? I think ... if that is Edward with amnesia, it will only cause more problems." Her voice was gentle. "Kain, it's okay if you like him. Without you, he'd be completely alone."

"There's Fic." Fuery felt the heat rise in his cheeks.

"Yes, but he also needs someone from here. Someone who will be his friend despite everything." Hawkeye paused. "It's going to take the rest of us some time before we're willing to accept him like you do."

Fuery put his head down on his desk, hiding his blushing face. "Everyone says I'm naïve and gullible."

"Not everyone says that. You're kind and gentle and you've got a soft heart. And if you ever need anything or anything happens, we'll be here."

"Thanks," Fuery mumbled as even his ears went red.

"And I'll need someone to help me with Havoc if he doesn't get any answers this time," Hawkeye said as she straightened up.

"Is he starting to get bad?" Fuery looked up.

"Yes. He was up half the night ringing the regional bases to double check all the birth records again."

"You should just shoot him," Fuery told her as he felt himself returning to normal.

"Waste of ammunition," was Hawkeye's dry response and Fuery was about to reply when the door opened abruptly.

"Where's the General?" Winry demanded angrily as she stepped into the office. "I need to speak to him."

"He's out at the moment," Hawkeye replied.

"When will he be back?" Winry almost growled in her throat.

"In a couple of hours," Hawkeye told her. "Winry, what's the matter? Why are you angry?"

"Do you know what Al has done?"

"No. What are you talking about?" Hawkeye asked as both she and Fuery stared at Winry.

"He's gone off again! He said the General said he could go!" Winry's eyes were blazing and there was outrage in her voice. "How dare he let Al go wandering around again?"

"Come and sit down, Winry," Hawkeye said soothingly and tried to move Winry towards one of the chairs.

"I don't want to sit down! I want to know why he let Al go! Al says he's still looking for Edward!" Winry glared at them. "Why is he going off when that …that _man _is still here? He probably knows exactly what happened! Al's_ got _to talk to him instead of running all over the country!"

"I believe Alphonse did meet von Hohenheim briefly and that it did not go well," Hawkeye said calmly.

"I didn't know that," Winry grumped. "Al never said anything." Her frown deepened.

"Where is Al?" Fuery asked.

"Somewhere on his way to West City." Winry sighed and suddenly dropped into the nearest chair. "He rang from some place. He left yesterday; he said he's already halfway there."

"I'll notify Western Headquarters and let them know. If he needs any help or a bed, then they'll be ready for him," Hawkeye said.

"I wish you'd stop pandering to him," Winry said rebelliously. "Knowing that you'll always be taking care of him just lets him keep on doing this."

"You know why he keeps doing this, Winry," Hawkeye stated firmly.

"I know. But it's been five years now. There has to be an end to it somewhere," Winry's voice rose slightly. "_That_ man could have_ all_ the answers and Al could finally stop looking and come home. There has to be a reason he's here."

"Why?" Fuery suddenly stood up. "Why does there have to be a reason? Von Hohenheim is just as confused as the rest of us. Why do you have to blame him for something he can't help?" Fuery finished speaking and saw wide eyes of the other two staring at him. Realisation went through him and he felt himself go cold all over before he flushed from head to toes. He made an indeterminate sound and almost ran from the room.

"I'm not blaming him," Winry said almost blankly as she stared after him.

"Yes you are," Hawkeye replied evenly. "Von Hohenheim disturbs us all, but because you grew up with Edward, because you're family, it's harder for you to have any perspective. That's why Al will keep looking even with von Hohenheim here."

There was a long pause.

"I didn't know Fuery could get so angry."

"Von Hohenheim is his friend."

Winry shook her head. "I though Fuery was Ed's friend."

"He can be both," Hawkeye spoke without inflection but her eyes were sharp as she looked at the stubborn mechanic. "And I would say that Fuery is von Hohenheim's _only _friend."

* * *

Edward von Hohenheim cursed as the screwdriver slipped across the metal with a screech and dug into his calf for the third time in as many minutes. He shifted the arm he was working on into a better position under his flesh leg and took a deep breath before lifting the screwdriver again. He ached, from his back to his new ports to his head, but he was going to get that damned screw undone if it killed him.

Working on the automail with Fic had proven to be a great distraction from his thoughts. It had been surprisingly difficult at first to get the right balance to hold the automail in place with his leg and use his left hand without tilting to the side. Once he had that, it had taken him quite some time to be able to judge the pressure needed to use as too much had him tilting off-balance again. Hunching over made his back ache but after the first hour he found it fascinating as he tweaked and fiddled with wires and connections and watched them work from a single poke of his screwdriver.

Von Hohenheim knew a lot about the prosthetics his father had made but this automail was a complete eye-opener. There were similarities but automail had more connections and a more intricate connecting system. Von Hohenheim was fascinated by it and Fic had had to forcibly remove the tools and limbs from him last night to stop him from playing with them all night. And they had been the first things he had asked for this morning.

He didn't want to think too much on the General's words and he certainly didn't want to know why it had hurt so much. It had been an accidental slip. It hadn't meant anything. Von Hohenheim expected them all to do it at some point no matter how careful they were. It was to be expected. It didn't hurt at all. Much. He grumbled at himself. _Yes, it had hurt and I'm an idiot for worrying at it. _ Von Hohenheim sighed. _And he'll be coming here today. He's the kind of person who'll feel like he has to apologise, isn't he? I …I don't think I want him to do that._

Von Hohenheim twisted the screwdriver. Better to concentrate on what he was doing rather than wondering about the General. He'd never gotten anywhere through second-guessing or being impatient. He'd learnt that there were some things he just had to accept as they were. "Doesn't mean I have to like it though," he muttered wryly as the screw finally gave way and he smiled in triumph. He looked up, smile still in place as the door opened.

* * *

Roy tried to drag out the trip to Fic's as much as he could. He decided to walk rather than be driven there. He tried to walk slowly but found his steps getting quicker as he got closer. Looking in windows didn't help. And his last resort, meeting some of the admiring glances being sent his way just didn't slow him down. He hadn't been interested in women for a long time now and it was impossible to suddenly feign something he didn't feel. Even the men he saw didn't distract him. He sighed. He didn't understand why he was hurrying to see the one person he was most reluctant to see.

He hadn't solved anything by the time he arrived at Fic's shop and he missed the smile Fic gave to his absent-minded greetings. He pushed open the door to von Hohenheim's room and felt a jolt in his chest as he saw the smile. Never had he seen that expression on _that_ face. Even as the almost glowing expression faltered when von Hohenheim recognised him, Roy still felt an itchy feeling under his ribs.

"General." The single word broke his stasis both mental and physical and he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. Von Hohenheim looked wary, Roy thought and he didn't blame him.

He looked at von Hohenheim as he moved closer and realised that for once he couldn't see Edward Elric there. Von Hohenheim was wearing a loose shirt and shorts. The flesh leg bent slightly with an automail arm under it was pale but well formed. The stump of his other leg with the bandaged port was visible. The loose shirt was partly unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up. With his hair loosely held back he appeared to be relaxed and comfortable. He wasn't hiding anything. His stump, the little glimpse of a scarred chest, it was all there to be seen. Von Hohenheim was completely unself-conscious of how he looked.

Even though von Hohenheim's eyes were wary, he made no attempt to move. Ed would have straightened up, he would have pulled the sheet over his leg and he would have glared at him. Edward Elric would never have let anyone other than his brother see that kind of smile. Roy could still see it clearly in his mind and he let his breath out.

"I want to apologise for yesterday," he began and saw von Hohenheim begin to shake his head. "No, I need to say this."

"I… you don't need to say anything, Sir." There was a dusting of pink across the blond's cheeks and the wariness had gone from his eyes. "It's not like you meant to say what you did."

"That may be true, but it was insensitive of me and I should not have forgotten myself to treat you like that." To Roy it looked as if von Hohenheim was embarrassed and it was yet another twist to remind him that this was not Edward Elric. _That_ blond monster would have been gloating as soon as the first words were out. Von Hohenheim looked down at the screwdriver in his hand and Roy saw him frown slightly as he pressed it against the automail arm.

"Everyone will do it at some stage. I expect it." von Hohenheim looked up suddenly. "I resent it and I know it will keep on happening."

"Von Hohenheim…"

"But you know something else?" The golden eyes were clear and unshadowed. "When you forget who I am, I get to see someone else as well. You walk around _me_ so carefully until you forget and see me as _him_. Then you become different. You become the stranger."

Roy didn't know what to say. He hadn't thought much past apologising because he hadn't known how von Hohenheim would react to it. The embarrassment had been short-lived and while he hadn't said he accepted the apology, Roy felt he wasn't completely ignoring it. But von Hohenheim's comments startled him. He hadn't considered it from the other side before and von Hohenheim was demonstrating a degree of acceptance that he had not expected. Without thinking Roy held out the folder he was carrying and sat down in the chair by the bed.

Von Hohenheim took it and opened it slowly, the wary look coming back into his eyes as he stayed looking at Roy for a moment before looking at the single page in the folder.

"Is this some kind of joke?" von Hohenheim asked in a strangled voice and the face that looked at Roy seemed torn between outrage and confusion.

"No. You're now known as the Forged Alchemist." Roy took a deep breath. He had half-expected this reaction. "You demonstrated an ability to break down and separate the various substances in those materials. You transmuted steel from them and you recombined it all afterwards. Your name comes from what you did at the practical, _not_ from anything else."

"It just seems rather all-encompassing." Von Hohenheim stared at him. "Why do I need a title?"

"All State Alchemists have one. Often people will know your title but not your name. Alchemists have a habit of _becoming_ their title. It is never chosen lightly. If you want to see more meaning to it than it has, then that is your decision. It's your name. It's up to you what it means to you, and to everyone else."

"Fuery said you were an alchemist too," von Hohenheim said without thinking.

"I am."

"What's your title?"

Everything stopped for Roy. He had never had anyone ask before. No-one had needed to ask. His face, his gloves had all been so well known and infamous. For years he had carried the weight of it until that night when everything had changed, and he had slipped away to the North and left his gloves behind along with everything else. Roy looked down at his plain white gloves briefly before he lifted his head. The single dark eye met the curious gaze of von Hohenheim. "I am the Flame Alchemist."

"Flame. So you use fire." Roy could almost see von Hohenheim's mind at work as the young man spoke. "You'd need to carry a flint or something to create a spark with you all the time to use it. Hmm, with an array in place…" von Hohenheim paused. "It seems to be very unstable. How do you keep control of it? What array do you use?"

"I don't use it any more." Roy's response was abrupt and he leant back in the chair crossing his arms and bringing a leg up over his knee.

Von Hohenheim blinked and then stared. The man had closed down straightaway. Von Hohenheim knew enough to be able read basic body language and everything about the General's posture was telling him that the man did not want to talk about it. Questions crowded into his head and he wanted to know. His eyes flickered. Was this how it was for them? Wanting to know about his past and having to hold back because it would be too impolite, too intrusive? But he had agreed to start talking and the General was going to tell him about this other Edward. Maybe the General would talk about himself as well, although it was a bit hard to imagine someone like the General opening up enough to share something that was probably very personal from his reaction.

Von Hohenheim realised he was staring and didn't know what to do. The unasked questions hung between them and he was suddenly struck by his presumption that he could even get answers later. This was his Commanding Officer. His General and he'd been rather casual in his manner ever since he had entered the room. Some of that was because the General had not been behaving as he usually did. And von Hohenheim was having trouble seeing him as the General even though he was in uniform. There was a person there too, not just a General, and watching him withdraw so abruptly and without pretence reinforced that. He looked down at the paper as he felt himself blushing again.

He looked at the name again. Forged Alchemist. Forged, forgery. Despite what the General said he couldn't help but see two sides to that name. If it was up to him to make the title his own, he knew which one it would be, but he didn't know if he would be able to completely wipe out the shadow of the other one. He let his breath out and idly looked at the thick almost parchment-like paper it was written on. It was quite impressive. He froze and then held it up higher.

"_Pale white and black with false citrine, imperfect white and red. The peacock's feathers in bright colours, the rainbow in the sky above. The spotted panther, the green lion, the crow's beak blue as lead. These shall appear before you in perfect white, and with many others. After the perfect white follows the grey and false citrine also._" Von Hohenheim read the words embedded on the page, following them as he turned the paper around. He frowned. "It's not quite the same," he muttered.

Roy watched as von Hohenheim dropped the page and shifted with a slight wince, reaching for the books piled on the table beside the bed. With sure fingers he managed to lift the top three and put them on the bed before reaching to get the next three. Then he picked up the seventh book and put it in his lap, bringing his stump close to help support the book. He flicked through the pages of a book that looked old and well-read. Roy looked at the books. They were all the same. Leather-bound and old and well-cared for. He couldn't read the faded words on the spines from where he sat but he felt his fingers itch. It had been a long time since he'd seen books like these and he had always loved old books. Scraps of ribbon were threaded through several of them obviously marking pages. One looked more worn than the others.

"Here it is." There was pleasure in Von Hohenheim's voice as he looked at his book. "It is slightly different, but that's probably from the translation."

Roy frowned. "You're talking about the words on the emblem?"

"Yes. I thought I recognised them. It's from Ripley's Twelve Gates. Its part of his _Compound of Alchemy_." Von Hohenheim tapped the book in front of him and read out the same passage as was on the parchment.

"_Pale and black with false citrine, imperfect white and red,  
The Peacock's feathers in gay colours, the rainbow which shall go over,  
The spotted panther, the lion green, the Crows bill blue as lead.  
These shall appear before you perfect white, and many more others.  
And after the perfect white, grey, false citrine also,  
And after these, there shall appear the red body invariable,  
Then you have a medicine of the third order of his own kind multipliable._"

Roy listened. Von Hohenheim's accent thickened slightly and his voice softened as he read and Roy found himself listening to that rather than the words. The differences between the texts were minimal and Roy wondered why von Hohenheim was interested in them. That array and those words had been used on many official documents for years. Roy vaguely remembering seeing them on his State Title Notification.

"It's said you can make a Philosopher's Stone if you follow all the steps," von Hohenheim continued casually and Roy stiffened in his chair. He stared at the oblivious blond who was smiling at the book. "I've always loved this book. It's almost like a poem to read but it's so full of everything I love about alchemy."

"May I see it?" Roy asked as he felt his stomach rolling. Edward Elric had spent every waking moment of four years concentrating on finding that Stone.

"Yes, of course," von Hohenheim said as he passed it over. Roy looked at the soft cover and hesitated before he opened it to the title page.

'_The Compound of Alchymy. Or the ancient hidden Art of Alchemie: Conteining the right & perfectest meanes to make the Philosophers Stone, Aurum potabile, with other excellent Experiments. Divided into twelue Gates. First written by the learned and rare Philosopher of our Nation George Ripley, whereunto is adioyned his Epistle to the King, his Vision, his Wheele, and other his Workes, neuer before published.'_

Roy struggled through the archaic spelling and lettering and noticed the publication date of 1591. This book was _that_ old? He carefully turned the pages and found himself reciting the first verse.

"_Calcination is the purgation of our stone,  
And restoration also of its natural heat.  
Of radical humidity it looseth none,  
Inducing solution into our stone most mete.  
Seek after philosophy I you advise  
But not after the common guise,  
With sulphur and salts prepared in diverse ways._"

"I think I have one of his other works here as well," von Hohenheim said after Roy had finished. "It's almost a shortened form of the Gates but much more poetic."

Roy looked a bit askance at the page. How could this teach anyone how to make a Stone? Where were the formulae and calculations? This was not how he was used to reading about alchemy. This sort of alchemical text was strange and confusing. It seemed to have little in common with alchemy at all. He looked down the page. He could understand some of it but the rest baffled him. It was as if he was reading someone else's coded notes. He looked at von Hohenheim and saw the young man shifting the books around with his one hand. Without thought Roy leant forward and picked up a couple from the pile intending to help spread them out.

A fluttering of paper had him looking down. A sepia coloured photograph had slipped from one of the books in his hand and he stared at it. Hohenheim of Light stared back at him and Roy barely noticed the young boy at his side as his eye shifted to the cover of the book. He had seen that circling snake symbol before.

"Ouroboros," he murmured. "What joke is this?" His voice became stronger as he shook the book and looked at a startled von Hohenheim. "What is the meaning of this?"

* * *

George Ripley: (1415?-1490) was an English alchemist.

_Compound of Alchymy_ was first published in 1591 in London by Thomas Orwin.

Author's Note: Research really is a bad and distracting thing… I spent several days going through Ripley's works and his Twelve Gates is probably one of the most interesting things I've ever read… closely followed by the _Ripley Scrowle _… I now have several ways to make a Philosopher's Stone thanks to him… and all this reading has given me bunnies for several of the other fics… but I will try not to quote as much as I have done this time…

I want to say thank you to everyone for being patient with me as my updates are taking longer than they should… I really do appreciate knowing you're waiting patiently and it does keep me writing…

I also want to say a big thank you to Mjus who has started translating this fic into Swedish…chapter one is already up… she sends me chapters in this strange language along with lists of translations and it is absolutely wonderful… thank you so much…

silken :)


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